gust

the wind also sings
out of my register
it flings me to second chair
with a worship beyond world
like an armed vanguard
it heaves a mighty word upon us
with the insistent roar of a highway
Coming! Come.   .   . ing!
weaving the trees
thatching a banquet hall
sweeping it clean
the wind also sings.

make room in me for new things,
February wind
for I cling hard to the thin trees of winter
and the mint taste of cold air.

worship

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2 responses

  1. brian

    Thank you for this Saint David’s Day gift….somehow your words sit well with your picture taken near Glencoe. And Saint David’s Day also brings to mind beloved Dylan Thomas (far from Scotland). May your wind be both cleansing and forgiving.

    Sent from Samsung tablet

    March 1, 2015 at 1:28 am

  2. HI! I love your poetry… I have an upcoming English exam and was wondering if, in a few years, your work, would be studied… Good luck!

    March 1, 2015 at 6:59 am

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