The Whistle .2

A whistling in the hurricane/Out here, a song, so close and strange/Who’s whistling in this wind and rain?/Two steps out, door locks behind/Body bereft of a key to find/And whistling is growing nearer still/An eerie lilting tune, clear skill/In my life I’ve heard whistles of nature/Odd voices of gods in their nomenclature

A Poem for the Unpaid

are you afraid to be unpaid/recompense-less pretty haunt/for wishful blissful serenade/may underway expulsion daunt/ring the bell and yell grenade/all such exiled songs now flaunt/bombs away blows an unmade/lay away day who never dawned/gone astray withdrew conveyed/so worry not you will be paid