Dear howling winds,

you whistle through tiny cracks

of our small, whithered home

songs of your journey

from further out miles.

Take me with you

as you pass by.

Pick up my soul,

so I can be a traveller

of the air.

This poem is about: 
Our world


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741