The Groaning Wind

A cold rain falls singing its singular song.

Splatter, drip to drop…thump thump,

Then beneath the gray skies of silence, it’s gone.

Clear droplets cling to broken branches of ancient trees.

A wandering mind climbs these broken branches of time.

Thoughts like yesterday are carried away on a groaning wind.

Holidays, dreams, tomorrow, long ago friends and lovers join in.

The clouds briefly part, the sun shines, birds softly sing.

Gray thoughts chase bright tomorrows.

Children of yesterday momentarily dream.

Then collapse the shining sky upon the groaning wind.

Cold rain begins it singular song once again.

Drip to drop, thump, thump, splatter and ring.

Silence the birds, mute now tomorrow’s words that waft on the wind of yesterdays children’s dreams.

J. Allen Wilson © 11/16/2010