This wind roaring through the trees
has seen the visions that madness brings
and is fleeing away in fright
this night as it alone stalks the streets of my city
and travels urgently on its way,
away from the moments it has passed through,
pregnant with its message of despair.
The wind has no peace in these paths so it is
fleeing to the forests, where it can
breeze free of these streets it must pass through
to exit the city.

I wish I could breathe so deeply
that all my frustrations became exhalations
and they could travel with this errant wind
to a virgin wood where they could find
answers to their angers.

Perhaps summer when a breeze
blows in from the sea,
I will sense an answer to questions
put to the wind today
by a sweetness in the scent of the salt.
And standing there, smelling truth so simple,
Bitterness will take a last look at the sea,
then go the way of the wife of Lot,
to be blown away by the salty breeze.
And like Lot, I will walk away
with the wind at my back
and sweet salt on my face.





Copyright 2004 by Cordelia Ridley

Back to main poetry page