Thursday, 11 August 2011

Feathered fingers

I heard the wind stirring from its rest last night
gently rattling the windows with feathered fingers.

             This morning it was awakening, strengthening
I know because it called
rushing round the corner of the house
noisily caressing the chimney pot.

         Today it’s coming from the cold northwest
unusual for August
stronger all the time
intensity waxes then wanes.

It does not come alone
the rain is harsh
needles sharp and short
bright sun patches
on grass which glows.

It stops
the sounds all die
a tangible calm.

I breathe a sigh
and think of those whose enemy is wind
when I enjoy this elemental force
of energy untamed.

2 comments:

CherryPie said...

I really enjoy the sound of the wind, when I am cosy, warm and dry inside.

the cuby poet said...

Me too! We get a lot of wild wind in Cornwall.