Three Shorts

I. THE REED

I am the reed
translating the crude,
the boundless whine,
the pleading sigh
of the wandering wind
into formal song
in praise of the wonder
of wounded nature.
Kindle the wind
and stir up the storm:
the fiercer the wind,
the finer the sound.

II. EVE'S GARDEN

All is never lost or spent
for even
the ugliest maiden,
the dullest descendant
of Eve,
retains a sacred scent
from the Garden
of Eden.

III. WHINE & WANE

               In Memoriam
               George Frankl

I whine, I wail,
I wane, I worry -
I want to die.
Well then, you will.

                    Wait.

What’s the hurry?

Thomas Land

If you have any comments on these poems, Thomas Land would be pleased to hear from you.