Outside
the windy breeze
ruffles my hair
and
cools my face
after a pandemic
a disease that spread
and invades
my space.
The wind
pushes
the branches
up and down
swaying regally
side to side,
a cooling sensation
as the sun's
dazzling light
glares bright.
It blows the leaves
from the trees
into my hair
as I walk away
feeling
the freshness
upon my skin
making me spin.
If there's a storm
the wind
will force its way
upon the bay
upon the houses
upon the fields
delivering decay.
The wind
can whistle
in the night
against
the glass
shattering
the window
as it cracks,
a shocking
alight.
***
The wind sings.
It roars loudly.
A howling,
zapping,
whizzing,
comforting sound.
It rumbles deep,
a suffering
blip of thunder
it brings
as it gets
out of hand.
But alas,
the virus
is still here.
The wind
hasn't
wiped it away
but left it
for another day.
***
©️ Denise Larkin 2022. All Rights Reserved.
Also published on Medium.com
The wind of Hurricane Ian in the Youtube video below:
About the Creator
Denise Larkin
A writer of a BA with honours (2.1) in Arts & Humanities recently gained a Creative Writing Master's Degree. She writes poetry, fictional short stories, and is the author of the Time to Run series, Darkness and The Non-Human.<aT.
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