Friday, February 22, 2013


I used to know the Winds real name,
And where she came from, when she came;
She'd trim the wings of sailing boats
In billowed swirls of petticoats,
Then shake her hair, and leaves would fly
Like flames across the cobalt sky.

Sometimes at night, she'd stamp and weep
And wake me from my nested sleep,
Or part the dragon clouds and spill
Bright stars across my windowsill,
Then dance the trees, from bower to bough,
And where she went
I used to know ...


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