Reflection (Remove filter)
The Wind
On summer evenings with not much to do,
The wind blows, soft enough to hear my words.
I ask the wind to bring relief,
I ask the wind to feel my pain,
I ask the wind to understand.
But the wind does not reply.
Yet, deep in private moments,
The wind knows more than you or I.
Monday 15th July 2024 8:18 am
Recent Comments
Robert Mann on The Emptiness of Self-Love
9 minutes ago
Steve White on Look! Here's Me as an Action Figure!
2 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Look! Here's Me as an Action Figure!
3 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on The Bitter Cup
3 hours ago
R A Porter on Goodbye, America
4 hours ago
Hélène on Instructions For Bedtime
4 hours ago
Hélène on The Bitter Cup
5 hours ago
Holden Moncrieff on Trees.
5 hours ago
Hélène on Favorite Poet
5 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'Goodnight'
5 hours ago