Wooden Winds

I am sad in these winds;

They are cold,

I know not where they blow.

When they pass through

I cannot see them.

They move,

But they do not move me.

They blow around me,

But I remain here,

Exposed;

In this body,

I am not fearless.

Am I too wooden

For these winds?

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1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    This poems speaks to me.


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