Words for the Chisel (collection)/Storm Centre

by Genevieve Taggard

Storm Centre

Past noon, past the strong
Hour for full song,
—However late—
Mere silence holds me. Here are met
Furious winds and the great
Quiet is desperate.

Utterly still they stand locked.
Once only the earth rocked
With the weakening of one.

This is battle, forehead-on.
Barbarous singing follows when
One triumphs. Now the centre
Tightens again
Closes. None enter—

It is silent where
Wrestles the air.