The Wind

February 11, 2009
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The wind is soft,
The warm gale blows gently on my skin,
It consoles,
It sooths,
It dances gracefully on the horizon,

The wind is still,
The dead air stiffens my body,
It looks,
It stares,
It sits waiting for something,

The wind is harsh,
The freezing gust scrapes against my face,
It stings,
It burns,
It violently attacks the world,

The wind is gone,
The breeze moved on to a different place,
It left,
It ended,
It slowly walked away,
Without looking back

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amanda said...
Mar. 29, 2009 at 4:31 pm
i love this poem. keep writing =)
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