deepundergroundpoetry.com

Wind

there was a tribal call to the wind
whistling and moaning
through every opening

trees caught up in the frenzy
tiny fingered branches
creating their own songs
creaking and clackering
percussion

they were in a mesmerizing
oscillation with the wind
swirling and bending
to her every command

some were snapped
in her moments of gustful force
she meant no harm
you could see her settling down
to an almost calm

her sorcery to strong
to stop the trees from swaying
in her uncontrollable
desire for dance
jemac
Written by jemac
Published
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