North Wind Poem by Jay Hall
North Wind
Tired gray bird
stands on the pier.
Senses cold air
creeping too near.
Knows it'll arrive
abrupt and hard.
Without sympathy;
without regard.
Calculates quickly
his chances to flee.
Abandons the thought;
drops to one knee.
Satisfied & proud
he'll ride out the end.
Alone on the deck
but for the North Wind.
Saturday, March 29, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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5/3/2024 8:49:22 AM # 1.0.0.1119
