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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