A Poem About Wind

There is so much to say about wind and this is what I settled on.
I could’ve written about the wind’s motion, or how it feels, or how it can be symbolic, but this is what I settled on.

Didn’t think about what I was writing as much as I should have.

I hope you enjoy.

The wind blows and howls and remains as it always has
It moves around, over and under what is in the way
It continues on and carries sound and rage
Almost as much as it carries quiet and calm

Leaves, seeds and dust ride the wind to where they must
Though remain unable to choose their location of departure
They do not ride the wind in the way that birds can
Though they often travel longer and shorter distances

Branches bend to the wind’s will
Though they bend until they they can resist
The body they are a part of changes shape
To one thought unfamiliar to how they should appear

The wind continues on to wherever it must
Eventually it reduces to little more than nothing
Though the reprieve is always temporary
As temporary and continuous as its remaining active

About Stupidity Hole

I'm some guy that does stuff. Hoping to one day fill the internet with enough insane ramblings to impress a cannibal rat ship. I do more than I probably should. I have a page called MS Paint Masterpieces that you may be interested in checking out. I also co-run Culture Eater, an online zine for covering the arts among other things. We're on Patreon!
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