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Image for the poem Windtalker…

Windtalker…

I whisper my words to the wind,  
carried on the breeze contained therein.
Words, words and more words, I do say  
to no one in particular, the same every day.
Sometimes the wind capriciously blows them back,
as if angry at me blustering with fury it’s attack.
 
Other times it wafts gently past
carrying the words I have amassed.
Who will hear them, who can say?
It does not matter after its carried away.  
What is said is said, there is no one to listen
to my oration of words in singular unison.
 
I talk to the wind but it does not reciprocate,  
it just howls and gusts at what I alliterate.
There is no one to listen, no one to hear
or to care about what I hold dear.
I talk to the wind, listening, hoping to perceive sounds  
carried to my ears as it drifts and floats around.
 
Gypsy red
Dec.2011    

 
Written by marielavoue (Gypsy Red)
Published | Edited 16th Dec 2011
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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