The Wind

It casts the falling leaves in turmoil

It tells a tale, a mere whisper

From whence it came:

That which is the past, yet ever present.

 

Sweeping down, it swirls,

Enveloping the beating Wings;

Now crying out;

Tearing at the flailing limbs…

 

Flee! the billowing trees do scream;

The world is but a blur…;

Flee! wail the shower of leaves;

The light is fading…

 

It stopped. I look around – all is silent.

All but the echo of The Wind.

 

~ Jordan Strobach-Morris, 18.08.2014

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