Winter Morning

You rage all night,
urging black clouds
to mutinous thunder.

What wind blows from
such mighty lungs
that heaven itself
bends to the blast?

In sleep's confusion
I hear you
calling me
out of the dark,
into winter’s
dim light

where trees rise
still and bare
into the sepia air

and small birds
search
the desolate earth.

poem by Steven Federle
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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