Laugh of Zephyr

The world presents itself, framed and unreal
stained like a canvas in sandstone and steel
the serpentine trees writhing - ghosts of the past,
an Eden of scandals ill-fated to last -
crashes the dark, and boom in the sky
a sullen wind twisting the leaves with a cry
as the setting sun shears through the clouds, woolen-dark
painting uncanny calm, shallow and stark
the joke of the weather, the smirk of the sky
to have such a sunshine while darkness tears by.