resident wind

the song of the wind
is weeping

no consolation
will suffice

tearing hair
a wail that whips the branches

my old oak
is shedding leaves
like they were tears

for the wind
is howling through wires
like a banshee

for the wind
is moaning low
in grief

this wind-song is either
a whirl
and a whip and a cry
or a lowing
of loss
and of woe





this wind
is a residenct
inside me



itโ€™s singing
inside my head

ยฉ Frank Prem, 2017

Poem #12:ย benedicted by the day


6 thoughts on “resident wind

  1. Lovely descriptions Frank ๐Ÿ™‚

    Wind, in my workings, is so difficult to write about – to really capture the essences of the moments – but I think this piece works well – the descriptions of objects, like the oak tree – and the tearing of hair – that makes it for me! ๐Ÿ™‚

    Liked by 3 people

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