Williwaw Poem by nathan martin

you spoke of my williwaw in dry terms,
yet my williwaw survived.

my williwaw grew and learned to
speak and was given a name.

my williwaw at times can curse candles
and speak in foriegn tongues.

how strange is my williwaw's form as he
rattles the wind chimes on my front porch.

they tried to chain my williwaw once and
he fled forever north of certainty and reason.

some used to ask if my williwaw would ever
come by again, but they dont seem to ask
anymore these days..


'wil·li·waw  [wil-ee-waw]
–noun
a violent squall that blows in near-polar latitudes, as in the Strait of Magellan, Alaska, and the Aleutian Island.. websters dictionary'