Blowout-Its-Cheeks And Rage Poem by Mark Heathcote

Where does the wind reside
does-it-circle the causeway rocks
does-it-reside in County Antrim
does-it-enter a cavern and there sleep,
like a snail within its spiral walls
did it charter a rainbow to a rainbow end?
Does it hush its breath and dream its death
but then blowout-its-cheeks and rage.
Rage-at-the moon, rage-at-the sun
because it can't find rest, it can't find peace,
peace in the heart or soul of anyone.