The Winds Poem by Penni Currie

The mists of time run closer
closer to the edge
the precipice awaits us
like lemmings, perched on the ledge.
The dark tresses of the wind
compel us into motion.
We walk the tightrope of life
that leads to our future emotion
never slackening you may fall
In tightening, its too taut
The wind forcing ever onwards
the winds of time and change
have you caught
blowing through our lives
nothing remains the same.
We must change as time decrees
If you want to remain sane

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