Wind In Mountain Dusk
It couldn't whistle
as nature's wind
whirling shadowed dust
for breathing and disappearing
It couldn't be
as proverbial evil wind
straying fickle-minded
faith believers
It couldn't hiss
the leaves of the pines;
pushing oceans waves
into storms
Confusing, now, but it's not
to chase the wind
in mountain dusk
here in biographical track
transforming wind into dreams
dark and lights........
Narrating my self-alternating pasts.
poem by Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan
Added by Poetry Lover
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