Poem #89: The Wind
#90 of Poetry
Every thing in life has it's place, it's moment. Every little thing is important, in order to create the larger picture. I hope you enjoy this poem.
A small breeze passes through the town
Sending a pile of leaves across the lawn.
This small breeze wants to be something more,
But alas, it is but a breeze.
The breeze is not a stronger wind,
Able to mess with the hair of passers by.
It is not a strong wind,
Forcing people to hide under warm coats.
The breeze is not a gust,
Lifting hats off their owner's heads.
And it is not a dust devil,
Whipping up clouds of dirt into the eyes.
Of course, it is indeed not a tornado,
Leaving a path of destruction in its wake.
It is neither strong nor terrifying,
Not something to be feared
Or paid much attention to.
The breeze wants to be more than a breeze;
But remain a breeze it will;
For even a breeze has it's time and place.
~bhscorch
"The Wind" by bhscorch is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.