THE DESTROYER

By Lola Ridge

I am of the wind...

A wisp of the battering wind...

I trail my fingers along the Alps

And an avalanche falls in my wake...

I feel in my quivering length

When it buries the hamlet beneath...

I hurriedly sweep aside

The cities that clutter our path...

As we whirl about the circle of the globe...

As we tear at the pillars of the world...

Open to the wind,

The Destroyer!

The wind that is battering at your gates.