It Was the Wind. I.

It was the wind
    That comes through me

1,000 songs of voices singing

penetrating to

my bones

       incomprehensible

stories
       all electricity
       and fire

and I could ride you
blind
          through miles of time

never truly knowing

the words with which

to make you known to me

but we I feel

though not I see

It was the wind

That wore a

whole in me.

 








It Was the Wind. II.

         It was the wind
         ceaseless howling
         a never ending
                  cacophony
               of sad stories

         and the unreasonable

         wear

         of time

                  blowing deep

         sanding down my memories

         where-ing away my

         mind

         everything gives


                  to the wind

         find me here
                 If the wind hasn’t

         yet picked

         me

         clean.

 









It Was the Wind. III.

































                                                                          . . . it was the wind.