Headline Poem 10/15/14 -- Wind

Wind

It's a call we get

and must obey,

an invitation to escape 

from all things 

 

noise 

and heat and Southern places

like cars and classrooms and 

heavy mistakes 

We wait until it's time 

to pack the car

and grab

some pillows for the long drive

We've five pairs of clothes, 

with a few left in the drawers,

and it's time to drift off --

watching folks fly by, 

we turn the car up North 

 and head 

toward the 

curtain

That's where we're let in 

to live a few days of

make-believe reality 

     in ferns and moss and rain-soaked leaves, 

we answer when she calls, 

because we believe 

     

in 

silver walls and other things 

We know it's in the wind 

and in the color of her skin

and so we go home

We know it's in the wind 

and in the color of her skin

and so we go home.