I call this poem I wrote “Tack and Tangent”:
 
Winding, wisping, whipping wind,
come down upon a sunny sky,
and trees abreast the blowing breeze,
sing psalms and succor sweetly sigh,
a hurricane of warming chills,
and woven, reaching daffodils,
a summer storm,
no heart could fill,
the love of living lost to will.
 
-.Amaris