Tantamount
To the wind playing war games with my hair
or the hard rain scrubbing my face raw of flesh;
to that of the sun leaving me hot under the collar
or the ground shaking beneath my fallen arches
I find just the thought of her loving me
every bit as provoking….
2008 ©
Ted Sheridan
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/compared-to-what-castration/
