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sandra wyllie
Poems
Jun 2022
If I Could be a Weathervane
blowing in the wind
moving in every direction
turning like the water mill
not a rock standing still
I would shine in the sun
like a ****'s red feathers spun
all that moves for me is time
growing old with every chime
looking to rise like the yeast
not lying in the pan
like the grease
let me live –
or I shall cease
Written by
sandra wyllie
56/F
(56/F)
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Salmabanu Hatim
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