winds
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Cool winds blow fast here.
White, bright, blue and black clouds loud
Floating up above.
Rakeshottam
Saturday morning we set out for St. James
There was a thick fog in the valley at 10 a.m.
We barely made it past the climbing lane
The radiator in the old Nissan van overheated
We halted on the north coast highway
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,
Violent twirls;
forceful twists;
the world is spinning.
The wind tugs at our clothing;
shoves us;
spins us around.
It whips our fear in our faces.
It hurls the sand into our eyes.
