Lawrence Hall, HSG
The Wind Drove the
Pages Wild
Reading Yevtushenko on a Windy Day
The flapping, fluttering pages went wild in the wind
And poetry sometimes should go wild, blow wild
To shake those gently slumbering words awake
Provoking peaceful musings into a storm
Nouns chasing verbs into logical conclusions
That turn about and bite the reader in the (hand)
And adjectives torment the symbolism
While adverbs, as always, were mostly in the way
I just wanted a quiet hour with coffee and verse
But flapping, fluttering pages went wild in the wind
