The Storm
She reached for sunset fires,
And lived with stars and the sea,
The mountains for her temple,
The storm for priest had she.
Together a libation
They poured to the God she knew,
Such wine as ageless heavens
And lonely wisdom brew.
Now she has done with worship,
For her all rites are the same;
Yet the storm keeps green forever
The moss upon her name.
G. O. WARREN