West Wind at My Back

Gray on gray

(Photo by Joseph Hesch)

Wind shushes the wrens’ chatter with
a whoosh and branches’ clatter.
The breeze aloft paints clouds
left-to-right across day’s white
canvas sky in swift strokes of gray.

That’s the same direction
these words run, whispering
their questions, wondering at
mysteries this windy hand of man
doesn’t understand from arm’s-length.

The ah-ha hazy answers I leave for those
discerning, far-away cloud readers,
once I exhale onto this white page
these black marks, which, from afar,
look gray, neither-and-nor.

Like those clouds, these sentence strands
scud east always toward open space,
resolute in searching for discoveries,
all the while realizing that dawn’s
only someone else’s yesterday.

With special thanks for the creative exhilaration and happiness rays shipped east by my friend Catherine Mitchell Dudley.

Shared with the gang at dVerse Poets Pub for Open Link Night.

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17 thoughts on “West Wind at My Back

  1. Other people’s left-over hours.
    What a thought.
    Still, this is recycling of sorts. I am always struck by the fact that under the cupola of the atmosphere, we breathe in other continents’ exhaled breath. And nuclear experiments, of course. Sigh.

  2. A lovely read, Joe. This is what I love about your work. I find your poetry earthy and appeals to the human senses. Some of us are to abstract. You keep us earthly grounded. A wonderful poem sir.

  3. The wind coming from the west is generally good news here. East winds are cold, but that’s what we have just now. I love “dawn is only someone’s yesterday.”

  4. Hi Joe. It has been awhile since I dropped by. And I am so glad I did. Great to enjoy a poem on nature for its beauty – and suddenly, you realize this has a very soul searching quality to it.

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