Wind

A new poem:

In the Wind

I step outside
to wait for the bus
in the sharp wind.
I am still
drowsy thinking
of something I want
to say to you
but you of course
are not here
so I whisper it
to the wind
that draws back
for a moment listening
eagerly though it
has heard it before
it likes to scatter
the words so
they float like
dry leaves in the air.

May 23, 2007

Have a very good Memorial Day!