If the Wind Could Talk

April 15, 2014

National Poetry Month. 15

Wyoming wind, 1998

Wyoming wind, 1998

Things the Wind Says
by William Stafford, from Sound of the Ax: Aphorisms and Poems by William Stafford, ed. Vincent Wixon and Paul Merchant

Everything still ought to move.

Of all plants I believe my favorite
is the tumbleweed.

Water will talk if stirred.

There are places in the mountains I am
afraid to tell about, but at night
you can hear me hint about them.

Islands aren’t so much.

I never saw a cloud I didn’t like.

Steam is all right, but I prefer smoke.

I was born in Kansas, but now I
travel all over the world.

I spend my vacations in Texas.

The best job I ever had was with
Sir Francis Drake.

My cousins live in water:  they’re a
slow bunch.

I’ll dance with anyone — royalty, commoners,
but especially refugees. . . .

Rain and Wind

March 13, 2011

Rain on my kitchen window

Rain on the window screen

 Winter Song
by Katherine Mansfield

Rain and wind, and wind and rain.
Will the Summer come again?
Rain on houses, on the street,
Wetting all the people’s feet,
Though they run with might and main.
Rain and wind, and wind and rain.

Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.
Will the Winter never go?
What do beggar children do
With no fire to cuddle to,
P’raps with nowhere warm to go?
Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow.

Hail and ice, and ice and hail,
Water frozen in the pail.
See the robins, brown and red,
They are waiting to be fed.
Poor dears, battling in the gale!
Hail and ice, and ice and hail.

The Floor of the Sky

August 28, 2010

My daughter in Wyoming, 1998

“Elsewhere the sky is the roof of the world; but here the earth was the floor of the sky.”
     — Willa Cather, Death Comes for the Archbishop

A Which of a Wind

May 12, 2009

“What of a much of a which of a wind…”
     — e e cummings

Cherry blossoms falling like pink snow

Cherry blossoms falling like pink snow

Fallen blossoms like pink snow

Fallen blossoms like pink snow

“Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling,
The wind is passing through.

Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads,
The wind is passing by.”

     — Christina Rossetti, “Who Has Seen the Wind”

Yesterday’s windy weather brought down many of the blossoms from the blooming trees in my neighborhood.  The Spring wind is so invigorating.  It’s lost the chill factor of winter.  It makes me want to stand and stretch my arms out and imagine cleansing molecules passing through my body and spirit.  Spring cleaning for the soul!