Venturing out, I came across the wind.
Who, rushing, coldheartedly waved hello
Making me feel like Adam when he sinned
Such that I wished he’d ignored me- but no…
Instead, like Jack Frost, he icily grinned
And his nature he decided to show.
He came from the north - forty miles, at least
Found his way through shirt, sweeter and coat
At the end leaving me like a skinned beast:
One left to eventually die and bloat.
This wind certainly was death’s own high priest;
For the harshest, he surely has my vote!
Copyright © 2010 Leslie Alexis
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem