TALES FROM THE GRAVEYARD SHIFT
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
EYES OF THE WIND
Picture Courtesy www.flickr.com
The wind sleepwalks
At night
Burdened by sightings
Of the eyes.
If only trees and eaves
Could speak
Or whistle at the very least,
A restless wind could find peace
In the still of the pitch of night.
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