A feather stick makes wind
over the ripples of the keyboard
dust whirling up and down
from the swaying
Again and again a run-up
And the light beaming through
The storm plays with the beach
it winnows, just toss it, and toss it
Sand ripples along the sea
The horn of a late guest
Last notes, last gusts
the wind lies down on the edge
of the old sea
and the new land
The storm plays with the beach it winnows, just toss it, and toss it Sand ripples along the sea The horn of a late guest very poetic my dear poet. tony