Even the whisper of a wind
Will woo these wind-catchers
To creak and groan, round and round,
Moaning above tulips, red and yellow.
And when one great dipping arm catches me
I soar screaming into baby-blue sky,
With wide and wild eyes
Stirring color to a blur.
“Hang on, hang on, hang on, ”
My laughing heart sings,
“Like love it lifts you
And brings you round,
And like a poem,
High above familiar ground,
It never wants to put you down.
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Comments about this poem (Windmill by Dennis Lambert )
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