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.