The wind that shakes the trees Blows through my coat, Lifts up the tails As if to gloat; "I am free."
The wind that beats these window panes, The voice that calls this pain again; "You're indignant to fate," they said. But I cannot accept their breaded promisings, My thoughtless relinquishings Of lost, listless, loving tales Grown stale in my thumping heartbeat Beaten by stalling, broken, dreams.
The wind that shakes these trees, Blows me away with the leaves.