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The Wind's Betrayal

Praise to the wind breathing its great, long sigh.

It can travel anywhere, but returns nigh.

Its  warm, brazen chill does not hurt me,

But comforts me beside the willow tree.

 

Though the passive ground beats at my weak soles,

Wind only whispers voices of the old.

Refreshed am I after wind's quiet breeze,

But soon the pure wind's face has creased.

 

Foreign havoc disrupts my mellow mind,

And the leaves of the willow leave me blind.

Lost wood and metal soar onto my skin,

But what hurts most is the wind's foul sin.

 

Wind has betrayed me and the plants that grow,

With a beastly, viperous tornado.

◄ The Hike

Human Thought ►

Comments

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ali bell

Tue 14th Jul 2015 07:28

Cynthia,
Thank you for the feedback!
Personally, I never thought of the peace and war metaphor, but I'm glad you found something I didn't see from your interpretation.
I see why you would say viperous is an strange word in this case. I guess I meant to describe a tornado as menacing in a snake-like way, like how snakes bite unexpectedly.
Again, thank you for taking time to read and comment on my poem!
-Ali

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 13th Jul 2015 11:25

I like the strong idea of this poem, and many of its images. I'm not completely sure if the final two lines conclude a metaphor of peace and war, but given the sonnet form, I presume they do.

'viperous' is a very unusual descriptive word for a 'tornado', and may point directly to your cultural background. I shall check your bio.

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