The wind of change blows soundlessly.
I can feel it swooping over the back of my neck, exposed.
A gentle chill, a welcome rush of cold to soothe me.
So quietly the whisper, almost inaudible, to which I lend my ear
“something new is coming”
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And then it is gone.
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A. O'Neill January 2007
1 comment:
Such a beautiful poem. As I read it I could almost feel the breeze myself. I seriously hope that you never give up on writing poetry.
"Something New Is Coming"...well we aren't new but we are coming! Five weeks away and then you get to see our jet lag stricken faces!
~Leona
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