Poetry: Ghostly Remnants

A chemistry of tangled things
they thunder in they thunder out
stormy seas to lands they cling
yet so brief their tempered rout.

I’m looking yon to distant shores
retreating fashions of this mind
faint their echoed solemn scores
so scarcely heard scarce I find.

Storms are fading and then are gone
but ghostly remnants still are felt
in the winds that they may spawn
in the vague debris they dealt.

They might live or might drift away
fall to earth and then slow decay
but yet could thrive and so convey
fashions from this mind today.

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