Windsong (Poetry)

I listened to the wind last night
I heard its mournful song
revealing what I’d always feared —
it said ‘You don’t belong ...’

It whispered sly those secret thoughts
it rhymed them in my head
describing stranger places where
I might fit in instead

The darkness wrote a passport and
I travelled in my sleep
through valleys wild with voices shrill
past rivers running deep

A ruin like a landmark loomed
some last resort hotel
no welcome warmed the hillside — cold
and miserable as hell

Drawn desolate and lonely there
no comfort to be had
no refuge for the spirit lost
too dismal, dank and sad

The storm-wind gossiped ceaselessly
spread rumour, chewed on lies
repeating every chilly tale
with gusting sobs and sighs

At last sheer desperation made
me plug my anxious ears
and shut that awful whining out
it so inflamed my fears

I drifted then till Dawn undid
the veils that hid her face
and though faint slander stuttered on
the plot had lost its pace

By day wind’s force blew less assured
fresh speculation weak
impersonal — its deadwood tone
grown oddly tongue-in-cheek

Noise dwindled to a listless breeze
an echo worn so slight
just like a dream I can’t recall
the song wind sang last night