PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Listen to the wind blow.
It blows like candy apples
against a metal roof.
I have finally arrived, here
at last, to talk with you.
How many times have we
crossed shoes in the past?
Too many for me to count
off-hand.We would flood the room
with our banal trivialities and
conversations about the weather.
This wasn't how we used to chat,
back when we let our minds meet in
intimate conversation.

Listen to the wind blow.
It shifts its' patterns across
the rumours of our past together.
I have come to your door to
let you know what it was
you have meant to my life.
I see you grazing in your
favourite chair inside the room
you have chosen to represent you.
The hour is late, and we should all
be asleep but I am determined
to have this conversation.

Listen to the wind blow.
It flashes heaving sighs for
younger minds in progression.
My friend, we travelled a great
many intellects together. Our
hearts once shaped to beat as if
in the same body.From time to
time I remember those photographs
that shaped so many years in my
growth to manhood.

Listen to the wind blow
It flashes in armour of twisting
gravitations to something gone away.
You laid aside your glasses and let
your eyes glare at me.
Were you seeing the man
of the teenage boy you used to know?
Myself, I think I see both; and yet
I wonder if we truly ever saw each
other at all?

Listen to the wind blow.
It shatters the branches of the trees
that once shaded our circus tent.
It has been a long time since we
sat together, one on one inside a room.
Despite the years apart there is always
a familiarity between us that flows
ever present from our tumbled thoughts.

Listen to the wind blow.
Blowing as it always has, pushing us
forward and away from one another.
I don't know what happened to "us"?
I do know as life flashed by we
found there really wasn't a necessity to
stay on the same road. All the same, for
this one time, let us return so that I may
tell you what a blessing
to my life you have been.