Spring Wind, a poem

Spring wind slips

Past windows;

Opening memories,

Closing shed doors.


I lie in the dark

Trying to fall asleep,

Trying to follow wind’s coming

And going.


The moment is slow,

Like a sloth’s crawl.

Monotony lulls into unawareness.

Life is fast,

This terrestrial spinning.

Change forces acknowledgment,

I am not young.


I am part

of the slow and fast,

Bound by the rules

Of this flowing time.

The thought comes

Like the wind,

Opening and shutting,

Bringing both stillness and



One thought on “Spring Wind, a poem

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