Voices

The ears,
Being more important
Than the mouth,
I listen to the wind.
Its
High voice 
Along bare branches,
Basso profundo 
Down chimney stack
To hearth,

Plaintiff moaning
Under doors,
Staccato rattle 
Along ships' sheets,
Its flap and crack
Among loose sails.

A dour warning
to those who venture 
Out of harbour,
Or on open fell

Better far
To stay bunked up,
Blanket bound,
To hear
And not be part
Of such cold and chilling
Tittle tattle.


JL Sept 16. 12:58