1092

The wings of the wind

For two long nights the wind has howled the house

 Rattling windows, drumming the kitchen roof

 Oozing through the cracks around the doors

 To chill our feet as we curl up

 With gin & tonic or repeats of Morse

And yet I'd rather be outside

 Blown away on a downland slope

 Caught for breath by the channel's surge

 Leaning against the ebb tide's force

For then my mind is scourged and cleansed

 Of all the doubts which clog and stall

 As I hear somewhere on the wind

 The wings of life beat with your call.

Brian Hick January 2012

©copyright Sally Hick 12.1.24