An Ill Wind Poem by David Wood
An Ill Wind
Cold stars look quietly down
As an ill wind wakens and
Begins to gather pace, magpies
And blackbirds can only watch.
Dark clouds gather casting their
Shadows darkening both sun
And it's lover under a temper of
Billowing power.
The scraping sound of Deaths
Sickle slowly being sharpened
Syncopates to its own beat to
An unsuspecting audience.
Time looks on unimpressed as
Time has seen it all before
Saddened that no lessons have
Been learned.
History at its repeating worst. Well-knit words bring nice imagery
Wind of vengeance and wind of hatred flowing all over the mental world; nowadays war is the civilized game of aristocratic nation! nice to read you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 4:16:06 PM # 1.0.0.1119
"Saddened that/ no lessons have been learned." Fantastic.