weather

They sailed over my head all day;

Those wispy heirs of Styx.

And ’round the trees their Brother made

His swooping, devilish tricks.

 

He tied the timber up with thread,

And after all were bound,

Like puppets on a string he flailed

Their arms absurdly round.

 

Then wildly upwards did he roar

To where the titans docked.

He flung them from their anchors,

And before them, hulking, stalked.

 

Eerily, they changed in strength;

Shape-shifters of the sky.

Hauled along by veiled lengths

Of rope lashed to his thigh.

 

His fits of rage and tantrums led

Him all about the valleys.

Pulling close behind him all

He’d tethered there so madly.

 

He never noticed all the pairs

Of eyes which swiftly scanned

The sky with sudden fright as shadows

Swept across the land.

 

Earthly souls were twisted with

A fear that he did lack.

For though their eyes were surely open,

All the world was black.