wind

black wind blowing

 

last night I intended to

dream of the horse eaters

standing stoically

against the wind

I dreamed instead

the wind

chafing my thoughts of

going forward

tenderly carrying calloused

dreams of locomotion

needing translation

loosely layered over

real rude reality rubbing

out today’s music in

the dark silences

made scripture by devotion

the wind howling pushing

blowing a dirty blue ditty

eating the foam off the ocean

crying in the key of God

screaming remember

I woke shivering

wind playing with

the curtain in the window

recalling dreams of flight

grateful for the wind

 

About Ayodele Nzinga, MFA, PhD

I create; therefore I am.
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