Where the wind goes
So I will go.

If Harmatten calls,
So I depart. The Sahara a cradle so I shall lay.

Should the Westerly
Steal me outright, and collide me with
A forest, a field, a turbine blade

So I shall be scented with pine,
And keep going;
So I shall be beat with grasses,
And keep going;
So I shall be slit by metal, butchered and broken,
I shall keep going, gripped by servitude and
Brevity.

Where the wind goes
So I shall be taken.

Four Greeks seize me:
Slanus, Auster, Favonius and Septentrio shall
Tumble me in throe, and
Shatter my bones, a christening, spread ash
Upon my brow and
Kiss me goodnight. So I shall gather and still go.
A dynamo of hurricane and
Trade.

Where the wind goes,
So I am made.

To taunt the sea,
Lick the stars; I cannot hold a candle,
Nor light one but

Where gale roars so I shall roar.
Where breeze quickens so I shall be rolling.
Were I
To peel up the road, I may
Lay it where I so please.

Naught are my worries. Many
My dreams.

I shall allow myself to topple every tower.
Stand and wait for Lips to capture me.

Where the wind goes,
So I am. So I shall be.

The howl of every chamber,
I shall not waver;

I only wish to remain wild and free.

First appeared on Poet’s Corner April 25, 2016