Aug 22, 2012

A Wind

Winds of sadness
chastise my feet
I shuffle and repeat
positioning myself
for the next gust
the next blow
like a typhoon war I’m in

which rocks and reels
bottling itself up for the over keel

wouldn’t it be beautiful
to feel the calm, maybe the norm
soft and gentle like tree sway before a storm
light sounds and gestures
reflecting my intimacy 
interpreting the better parts of me  
still, it ripples and waves as it winds up the day
I straddle in repression like an opaque haze
being stifled in the whisk—being drawn by its bliss
And the wind remembers my sadness
breezing secretly in the still , like blackouts
in hushed silence, pussy footing in idleness
taking every whiff of me wherever it chooses




  1. ty Teresa, I'm glad you enjoyed. Come back and read! x's