I am dwelling over tales While bad-hearted rains Swell with stony voices Over the rough country. Light flickers above the wild lands This side of the mountains Ridges flash with violet fire Then black Smothering the whole world. Inside Fatherís antique clock Resolves the lengths and breadths Of time Assuaging the houseís wintry rafters Which reach down around me. At my windows Rain pummels with nightmare fists. The sky is flying smoke.