that night

March evening storm

Is that the wind
or bird wings against the glass?

Inconstant wind,
like hands that never entwine,
just move lovingly through my hair.

The wind moved that night,
filled with righteous violence.
Cyclonic angels fierce in their mission,
swirling songs from their twisted throats
singing to souls of houses and trees,
lifted in rapture.

That night, I followed the wind
then it twisted and chased me
all the way to your door.
But you had gone-
all that was left
was that not-you,
windless.

Is that the wind
or bird wings against the glass?
Foolish bird.
Foolish wind.

*** For dVerse prompt tonight, we are chasing the wind. Hold onto your hats and join in!

Re-vision

Feb morning sky

I cultivate clouds
raking them just so
into rows of wings
and birdsong

I cultivate clouds
raking them just so
into rows of birds
and wing song (revised)

I cultivate clouds
raking them just so
into rows of wings
and wind song (revised)

I cultivate wings
raking them just so
into rows of clouds
and wind song (revised)

I cultivate winds
raking them just so
into rows of birds
and cloud song (revised)

Whispers on the Wind

Whispers on the western wind
Tell me tales of a land
Filled with scrub and blue northers
How you found three tarantulas
And a blunt nosed bull snake
Under the wood pile
That when you showered
It smelled of feedlots
As the dust washed away
With the days sweat
You sleep in a small room
Waiting for the autumn sun to rise
And working till it sets
Over that flat horizon
Your eyes seeing a different landscape
Rising to high desert dawn
And resting under vast starry skies

Listening to the western wind
I hear the sound of your voice
My landscape has changed too
Now an open empty expanse
Of lavender sheets
Stretching to the Ozark blue sky
Into tops of green cedar trees
North wind whispering of autumn

Come home
To the landscape of our life
Where the familiar hills and valleys
Long for your touch

Undertow

Undertow

The wind
Relentless against the trees
Turning the leaves inside out
Sounding of the surf roaring to shore
Waves crashing against the rocks
Pounding reverberating in my chest
The wind
I am tired of the wind
Weary of the waves
Dragged down by the undertow
I am drowning
In the wind
Drowning in the leaves
The undertow
The wind

Kathleen G. Everett © 2012