Wind Swept: An Original Thursday Poem

Wind whipped her,
Flailed her,
Sending fragments of her to flight above
The captured clouds
Walled in
Behind the mountains.

Reminded her of a fairy story,
A morbid favorite of her childhood
In which
A magician whipped a sobbing young woman
as they flew on the winds,
punishment for some now forgotten trespass.

That rude wind that
No matter how many bright sides she tries to find
Always
Just always,
Beats her body
Fights with her soul
Shortens her temper
Makes her long for some gentle soft breeze
Ruffling the palm trees
On a far shore.

Instead, the cruel wind sweeps her inside
To sulk in hot water,
Soothing her spirit in the cold west,
And listen to the chimes being blown in the night.



Daily gratitudes:
Hot water
Soup
Good choices by elected officials
That the quasi-quarantine is keeping us healthy