The wind so brisk,
so fresh the breeze
on my skin,
in my heart.
Pure and new.
Like myself.
To start all over again.
Without you.
No more
stale thoughts,
the stink of
booze lingering in my nostrils.
No more you.
I feel the wind.
Fresh.
***
The weekly theme for
Moody Monday is
fresh
so fresh the breeze
on my skin,
in my heart.
Pure and new.
Like myself.
To start all over again.
Without you.
No more
stale thoughts,
the stink of
booze lingering in my nostrils.
No more you.
I feel the wind.
Fresh.
***
The weekly theme for
Moody Monday is
fresh
10 comments:
I like this picture--it's so stark. And I just realize wind is so elusive that you can only imply its presence by showing its effect.
Yes, Kenneth, the effect is seen -and the wind is already gone.
A beautiful photograph. I always enjoy your poems too, this one included, and as I read it, the old King Crimson song "I Talk To The Wind" came to mind. :)
A beautiful song, Mick.
beautiful picture and poem
Thank you, Griesmail.
Was he drunkard? the loveone.
Could have been, or then the loved one was booze and the person in the poem got rid of alcohol.
As the reader prefers.
I really like your poems I write also but im just not sure do i have the courage to put them on the internet out in the open.
Jayden, I believe that internet is just the perfect place to publish ones poems, so don't hesitate.
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