Eastern Wind Poem by james kennett

Eastern wind

Contentions east though west is glad
Far out of shadows
Comes fear and waste,

Out of spite comes more lip
Spitting on roots and quick
Words that make you cry,

Fear only engenders sadness
And slow to remember
Is the heart that lets you die;

Though quick to heal
The proud and lonely
Souls parted too soon,

Only the peace remains
After midnight`s bitter clauses
And the gulls' western moon.