Zephyr

Poem

The wind picked up, bringing a familiar smell with it.
In a rush I was taken back.
I smiled, but the moment zipped on, the gust was
Too strong.
I went farther back.
My smile faded.

The smell landed like a delicate autumn leaf
In a pile. In my chilly past.
I closed my eyes, but the pain went on, the cut was
Too deep.
I shook the smell off.
My eyes opened.

Who can control the wind and whatever it brings?
In seconds it can ruffle my mind.
I watch the skies, but the clouds often gather
Too fast.
I learn to bend.
My mind is mine.

 

more by VK LYNNE

photograph by Ondrej Supitar