it's just the wind

I can see it all so clear
as the wind from the oncoming storm
ravages the trees on the Northern side of the mountain
as if trying to uproot them

I gaze from above on Bear's Den
as Connor Brooks tries to finish the mowing
on his 40 acres and Molly's cries for him 
to get inside before dinner gets cold
echo upwards in waves 
beautiful waves

The Village Market
serves the last few customers
before closing up for the evening
Birdman, Mike and Fuzzy
all friends since high school 
are stopping at the Horseshoe Curve 
for a glass or three
while discussing their shared memories

and of-course
Sarah...scurrying to get the clothes off the line
before the downpour
unaware her every sensual move is being watched
by the unlucky poet 
who didn't quite grasp the moment 
and reap the harvest
that lay there awaiting his attention
so many years have passed


timing never was something that seemed to fall my way
always seemed to be a day behind 
realizing what I should have done
the day before
most things you get over
most missed chances eventually dissolve into the blur of life
like a bruise

Sarah never dissolved
never blurred

she hesitates for a moment after picking up the basket of clothes
as if she heard a far off voice call her name

it's just the wind

Deckard

I began writing poetry when I was a teenager and it truly saved me from a destructive path. 'Time Heals' will be on my grave stone'. I have 3 incredible kids who are the greatest gifts that God has given me. If I have advice to give to aspiring...

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