Winds They Wooed Poem by Emmanuel George Cefai

The widow winds they wooed
The cypresses it was
In the cemetery
By the graves
Grave after grave
After grave - a finity
But such high of Finities.
The windows of the stars
Curdled on the brink
Of hapless clouds
And fleece ancient and
New.
Greek words fluttered
In the wise airs there
Was a Voice that was
Uttering….
There was a Voice
Uttering..
And it was noble…
And the words it said were
Noble
Even from their very
Sounding dignity…