Tag Archives: wind

The Wind’s Words: roundel

Who can say what words the wind has spoken,
when cast out in the night, it has its say?
Its speech slips out in whispers, clipped and broken.
Who can say

what language that it speaks, to curse, or pray;
and what translation key exists, what token,
to know its words, first heard at break of day?

So many lonely years it speaks, heartbroken,
unanswered in misunderstood wordplay.
What conversation passes with the woken?
Who can say?

12 MAY 2017

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The Wild Wind: droighneach

Believe me: there is nothing evident
found in the wild wind’s sad apology
that echoes the swift, mad accident
of an empirical chronology.

The sound careens off the walls and multiplies,
pale murmurs slipping along an endless cavity
where caught words glow and briefly shine, like fireflies,
then gently fade in obscurity.

02 MAR 2017

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Blow Thou, Winter Wind

Blow thou, winter wind, on my shutters and doors,
knock down happy scenes outside department stores,
and lay your hand over the acres of trees
picked before their prime and chopped off at the knees.

Set loose your ice knife blade and cut through the night,
send glad-handing carolers running in fright,
wreak havoc on fake snow and decorative sleighs
and overwrought, wasteful electric displays.

Blow on, winter wind, separate wheat from chaff,
and I will smile merrily, and even laugh
when your icy breath on the window panes rasps
and rattles lawn ornaments and dry bird baths.

Send all the leaves, dried out, their chlorophyll gone,
to rest on the self-righteous manicured lawns
of those who would well-wish just once every year;
Blow on, and once all of the garbage is cleared

keeping blowing until you have gusted your fill.
Blow ye most triumphantly, blow as ye will;
and then, when your efforts have cleaned off the swill,
meet me at the top of some sad, lonely hill

to lend me your strength — let it fill up my lungs.
Together, we’ll seek out new songs to be sung,
and gather fresh myths to raise our kids among
that see the world once more as vibrant and young.

04 DEC 2004

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The Blustering Wind

For two days now non-stop the rain flows,
while the world waits patient for the sun;
and still the wind against the window blows.

No one is out at parades or picture shows;
In this dreadful weather, no Mardi Gras fun.
for two days now non-stop the rain flows.

It may make flowers and plants quickly grow,
but down the streets and ‘cross the lawns it runs;
and still the wind against the window blows.

The weathermen make statements, but who knows
how long these raging squalls last, once begun;
for two now days non-stop the rain flows.

The parks and playgrounds, soaked, are forced to close,
and outdoor games the children must all shun;
and still, the wind against the window blows.

We huddle to stay warm and dry in winter clothes,
and to stay content, not lose reason;
for two days now non-stop the rain flows,
and still the wind against the window blows.

22 FEB 2003

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