In the Garden of Wind’s Delight
Faltering, it drifts
to a stop, rests for a moment
before fluttering to its end.
It is good to be sound.
It is good to trickle through holes.
It is good to be old
even if just one of a crowd.
These notes serve no purpose
yet they linger beyond
their existence.
I listen to their past
for their future. Where are you?
I ask. What is your true name?
“In the Garden of WInd’s Delight” appeared in July 2019 in Nine Muses Poetry. Thank you, Annest Gwilym, for taking this piece.
Love the poem. Can I say I was blown away, or do dad jokes have no power here?
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Dad jokes rule!
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