The wind in summertime
blackout, wishy-washy rain,
suddenly bones creak
and the body weighs
under the wind’s suppleness.
Why the wind?
Why the wind?
Now, have the fruits of
summer disappeared?
Heavy hanging of the mind, brittle bones
and the all-familiar tune
of death lurking somewhere
in the news.
Why the wind, O the wind
I wander into a nook of oblivion
Rush home.
