Poem #89: The Wind by bhscorch1313

Poem #89: The Wind

#90 of Poetry

Every thing in life has it's place, it's moment. Every little thing is important, in order to create the larger picture. I hope you enjoy this poem.

A small breeze passes through the town

Sending a pile of leaves across the lawn.

This small breeze wants to be something more,

But alas, it is but a breeze.

The breeze is not a stronger wind,

Able to mess with the hair of passers by.

It is not a strong wind,

Forcing people to hide under warm coats.

The breeze is not a gust,

Lifting hats off their owner's heads.

And it is not a dust devil,

Whipping up clouds of dirt into the eyes.

Of course, it is indeed not a tornado,

Leaving a path of destruction in its wake.

It is neither strong nor terrifying,

Not something to be feared

Or paid much attention to.

The breeze wants to be more than a breeze;

But remain a breeze it will;

For even a breeze has it's time and place.

~bhscorch