I duck as I go
For the wind has bent a bough low
And toppled a street sign.
A winter breeze makes random patterns with leaves.
The wind has no time
For our certainties and lines.
I duck as I go
For the wind has bent a bough low
And toppled a street sign.
A winter breeze makes random patterns with leaves.
The wind has no time
For our certainties and lines.
That’s very true.
Thank you, Esther. I’m pleased you like my poem.
A good one for this windy weekend, Kevin.
Thank you, Vivienne. I’m pleased you like my poem.