wind

Dance of the Forgotten – by Helga Kidder

Winter wind whines through woods,
whips and tosses flakes around tree trunks
like refugees begging for shelter.

Where can they go except to fall
into the ground or sink
and drown in a foreign sea?

Tonight they cling to naked branches,
pine needles, and magnolia leaves
willing to lend a rill or crag, thankful.

But the wind scrapes roofs and shrubs,
whirls all in air for a final, tough luck – no room,
dizzying, mind-altering waltz.

Image credit: Abstract art (Pixabay)

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