Summer Storm

Lady’s Tresses –
Queen Anne’s lace,
lay flattened in the field
as if a herd of stallions
ran wild there.

So much rain
and still it rains;
the wind lashes
the pampas grass –
its feathered plumes
ripped to shreds
as the breast
of a ravaged bird.

The wind howls
through the casement
windows that rattle
on the latches;
crows 'caw-caw'
mid-air – their wings
black sails; galleons
ride out the gale.

Everything in flower
hangs its heavy head
as still it pours...
the foxglove, peonies,
and mop-head hydrangea
shed petals all around;

beneath a Cornus Kousa
a ‘Venus Tree’ – deep
your ashes are buried;
atop them – strawberry-centred
blush-pink bracts – lie,
shattered
on the ground.