The Wind


The wind,

Prankster of October leaves

Swirling under a magician’s wand.

Taking from branches and limbs

That once reached out in the summer sun

Full of dreams, and enclosing our days

When love was young.


Limbs picked by chilling breezes

Throwing yellow and orange to the ground.

The vanity of love scratching the streets,

Moving around, at times lingering,

At times dying in the wetness of the gutter.


The wind,

Prankster of October leaves

Bending egos that rise above

Greeting the sun with flutter.

Vibrant veins that once gave flesh to sky

Now fall in gusts of folly,

Autumn tears of summer’s lies.




Categories: Life, Observations, Poetry

Tags: , , , , , , ,

1 reply


  1. Standing in the Wind | Greatpoetrymhf's Weblog

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