Each word only spoke to who I used to be
Hitting me with sadness I hadn’t felt in so long
Memory, an idle passtime we cannot live without
Like each deep line slowly growing across my body
And each sun setting beyond the upper field
Pink and golden and blue as it be
A feather of mine that once flew me
In wind I now see as ghosts
Of who I used to be.
Tag: wind
Winds
Winds so softly blow against
Open breath of my morning
Definitely Arctic air
Lingering in it’s breadth
Curling around me as if to say
You are home, welcome,
And good morning to you Sir.
For me, it is as an alarm
Awake before I’m called
A sign I am still early
For a fresh day to my face.
Greeting, Sun
Greetings, Rooster
Greetings, fresh grass
Greetings, Wind
I am ready for today.
Locus on my Mind
A locus on my mind;
Two dollars and fifty cents
While driving slowly in the right hand lane
Looking for a parking spot
And Grimes on the radio
Flapping wings of technicolour
Written cleanly upon the sidewalk
I am not walking upon.
Heaven yoked my thoughts;
A golden beam of sunshine
Misdirected through bubbling clouds
That cannot share my thoughts
For they speak only in winds
I cannot hear or see
Only feel upon my frowning brow
Searching for and watching
Fleeting moments of sun.
An opening emerges;
Calling with my well-let whistle
I walk alone through a quiet wooded path
Unsure but hoping
For a path to emerge
Amidst low hanging spruce branches
But weakness in my knees
Tell me that I’ve missed my chance
So I must forget the way home
And keep my eyes open wide.
Wind Swept Growl
Loud depth of wind
Sending a sliver of the moon
Into long blades of grass
Bellowing Autumn’s warm choice of a day
How dare minutes of this season
Fall away so effortlessly
Like the glimpse of a red lit night sky
Following in Sun’s same footsteps
Test not growing darkness’s patience
For caught you shall be if thy tarry lasts
Any longer than a deep breath of sorrow
For soon, that lone Mars shall break the starless trance
Last evening desires fade
As Coyote wakes to prowl
And guarding this fleece lined flock
A great Pyrenees longs his stretch and growls
Yesterday
I thought I remembered you yesterday
Then I woke and you weren’t on my mind
In my fury I swallowed hard
Thinking of all the time I spent
Without your sweet smell beside myself
I wasn’t hungry like I told you so
But my trigger was a lofty chance
So I left you and your sideways glance
To find peace amongst the trees.
So and so it was again
So it came and so it went
So I heard your voice nevermore
So cold winter sprung away
So a warm wind blew my way
So I loved the place I stay
So I left you yesterday.
Working and Frozen
Biting wind
Numbing feet
Hands slowing down
At Home
There’s a mountain of crows
Crawling about my mind.
Distant snowy peaks
Tall, looming firs
And the faint, eerie howl
Of the wind
Settling through furry boughs.
I dont want comfort anymore
I want slow, agonizing pain
Of cold feet and biting breath.
Let darkness fill my voids
With only the fire
Inside my eyes
Feeding the warmth.
Here, I will stack wood
Against stained boards
Of an ancient vision;
Architectures ancestor
Where notches have been worn
By our rattling wind
That kept the night
Hallowed at home.
Lonely
Lonely
Like this ghost
I whisper my secret stories
Unwilling to chill
My nervous twitch.
My veins have begun to bulge,
My forecast is for rain,
My tulips are still
A long cold wait away.
So this whisper caresses
My ghostly remains
Turning effortlessly
Against swirling wind,
And painting my brightness
Gray, weathered and stained.
Flies
After a while the flies find you
Sinking into skin
Like love letters I’m waiting for.
I try my passive eye
With a lazy wind
Covering my imagination
While three ewes
Run circles,
Their heads down
Wishing for longer grass to hide in.
But my exhaustion
Just watches two blackflies
One on each wrist
Searching for that perfect place
To bite in
Just like the lover
I’m waiting to hear from.
My presence will outweight
My disregard here,
Just as the sun knows
It outweighs the wind
And there are no flies who care less.
Ode to Goldenrod
What is your weather?
So delicate and sure
Sentinal of harvest.
What once glowed gold
Now delicately so tender,
Brown and wilted;
Seeds like rain
Fall from your mane
In one breath of wind
Shaken your stand.
Of all the ancient history
Stored in your very seed,
How does each season
Keep bringing you to me?
So that our fields can grow
Yellow in the fond sun,
So that our vase can be
Filled up with royal thee.
