Wind Poem by Keith Duperreault
Wind
Dusty wind rains down upon mossy soil.
All around, vibrant sounds of the living
try composing a symphony in bright color
and wilting sighs
It slinks through branch and willow,
across pond and marsh and misty airs,
filling its lungs to bring forth its cry
But only gods hold vigil to such sorrow,
and drown in its sonorous sound,
as it abandons its artistry within
a mask of spring.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 1:39:52 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
