Thread: Wild Wishes

The wind is a beggar,
clutching at your castoffs.
Its breath investigates pockets
and nips at bags of groceries.

The sidewalk is slippery underfoot,
mud smearing its way upwards.
Endless lines of blank people
pass by, intent on nothing.

Bills spray from the mailbox,
umbrella inverts,
reaching for the charcoal sky
uncaring that your keys have snuck away.

Oh, to be a bushman,
with no thoughts save those
of your next meal,
and sleeping by a dying fire
is the most savory of luxuries.

But inside this drab apartment
there are dumb mouths to feed
and your mouth must be twisted shut
against your anger, lest the neighbors hear.

This is simply grand, Damien. Am pressed for time, so I can't sing specific praises, but please know there are many. I'll be back to worship such perfection once the dumb holiday passes. Thank you so much for this one, love, and I'm nominating it for the next issue of Motley Press. Happy New Year, hon!

Best,
Lisa

This is fabulous ! Your first stanza is perfection..."The wind is a beggar"--stunning.I was enthralled from start to incredible finish. Each word resonates with mood and angst--yet soft...I loved the visual imagery--"endless lines of blank people"---Bills spray from the mailbox","charcoal sky"...And your last stanza--Brilliant! The tension and anger so elegantly scripted.This has the feeling of a well seasoned poet. Thank you for posting this one, a real pleasure to read. Peace...Jul

Loved this - the wind as a metaphor for life - running its gauntlet as it provokes us - surrounded by blank people and dumb mouths who cannot understand.

Very nice!
It fills my sails.