Cowardice

In storm-like days our memories dim away

From rainbow moments in our past.  The strengths

Of hurricanes, their twister periods, sway

Our souls. They go to tacit lengths

To search for calm forgetfulness.  As in

Our sleep we struggle to escape a dream

That slants toward nightmare made much more than sin,

Our spirits swerve away from death and scream.

We want a dawn and not a lurid sky

Of sunset killing ships and shredding sails.

We want a hurricane with only eye.

We want the calmness of the singing whales.

  Then finally we exit tortured sleep

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    And want to be peace-stilled, cud-chewing sheep.