Gone the wind

A silence
spills soaks up the sound
of soughing trees.

Where did the wind go with its ranting
threads of voice wolf-cried ululations
roaring chimneys keyhole-whistles?

Raced over the hill and far away

until a distant dog bells
echoing the long goodbye.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

11 thoughts on “Gone the wind”

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