The wind's been fierce and unrelenting two days
Now. It's ripped the leaves off of the trees
And swept the ground like some great broom.
It's also set my nerves on edge. I hate its sound,
Its chill, the way it forces me to stay inside.
I'll take the drop in temperature. I have no
Choice, as winter's coming, but I'd rather face
The cold in air which isn't moving much.
I do not pray. I can't believe in unseen,
Unheard cosmic spirits, but I wish there was
Someone to ask to end this wind.

Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 16 times
Written on 2021-11-13 at 00:55

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