It was a wildly windy night,
wherever I looked had the tinge of fright,
and I kept seeing passings red,
in body’s guise
… of my demise

It was a night of wilding winds,
I hoped my worries would start to rescind,
but they seemed to gust and shiver
in wind’s disguise
… of my demise.

It was the winds of nighted-wild,
that gibbered of painful and futured trials,
I cowered at sighted fate
of my demise
… of my demise.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 6/9/04