Saturday, 29 March 2014

Wild Dance

Whistling winds whip away at withered leaves
coercing them to sway and dance
into an invisible ballet,
like a stringless ventriloquist.
Airy and wispy, the strength amazes me
and I feel myself pulled
by nothing
towards nowhere
but on and on
and I wonder what allows
such a boisterous wraith
to wreak havoc on the elderly residents.
Angry turbulence and resentful gusts
I fight against on all vectors
trotting on myopic as a mule
saddled in dignity.
I ignore the dancing leaves
and pierce through the medium
like an arrow through flesh
and I continue through the contiguous solution,
heeding none of its warnings
of an immensity unseen
and far too visible,
and march on triumphant
only to be left dancing in the current
along side the foliage
I once ignored,
and hated.

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