aftermath

we dream, we create, we change, we love

New Wind

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  The simplest words were all I ever had,
and none of those enough to stir light sleep
nor worth the breath to memorize or keep,
just shadows of a breeze obscenely clad.

Yet isn’t any wind recycled waste
left over from what failed to leave debris?
It rambles on like dim cacophony,
like holes at random carelessly replaced.

A second wind blows in up from the south
in urgent prelude to the coming storm,
its warnings rushing hard against my walls.

Like cyclones from my heart that reach my mouth,
my thoughts evaporate before they form
the whispered echo ancient dream recalls.

   
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Written by macheide

2 March 2008 at 9:35 pm

Posted in last but not least

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