Whirling and spinning
and moving about
the wind comes in
with a mighty shout,

stirring in me
things long lain still,
whether or not
it's in my will,

to be so tumbled,
and tossed around,
not so sure of
steady ground,

where will it carry me
where will it land,
this mighty wind
with chill so grand?

Can't say I don't like it,
no I never could,
for when it's still
I wish it would,

blow.

Next Poem Link to Index caramarie@attbi.com