Superior Sings

None listen to the sound of my voices,
Though they spill forth from places black as night.
I pray someone notices my word choices,
Though the wail of my tunes be slim and slight.
My urgent cry is firstborn of distress,
And father to its echoes to come;
A family wand’ring in wilderness,
Their plaintive voices unsettling to some.
Cold fury of winds crossing darksome moors,
Breaking forth from shadows chill with despair,
Both battering windows and bolted doors,
And carrying warnings everywhere.
As twilight transitions to fulsome dark,
My wind voices whisper in voices stark.

Mick McKellar
May 2016

Lake Superior sings all the time, but most poignant is her fell voice on the urgent, cold winds of warning when weather is about to change.

Mick