The Death-Wind Howls…

I played with repetition of certain words in the poem. I wonder if the repetition works for you.

 

The Death-Wind Howls…

scouring our ears,

stripping off clothes,

the sweaty bedsheets

then sanding off skin,

the skin, keeping memories of

so many sins

buried in muscle,

the thick tissues, the wind,

the wind winnowing us

down to bone, down to

the selves we carry

deepest within,

within, regardless of how

wonderful and terrible

they have been,

have been.

Published by

sanberdooboy

I've been writing mostly poetry for many years and have gotten a number of works accepted in publications and anthologies. I'm most interested in communicating with poets for whom craft is a high priority. I enjoy finding and commenting on poetic gems in other people's work. For my own work, I welcome polite comments, whether positive or critical.

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