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A Clash With the Wind

 


I grab neon signs, prick out the truth
drop the shards, like confetti, tinkling;
a rat waddles by, dirty and dingy

we do a feverish dance on the glistening glass

soft feet turning red in the fumes of the city.

 

A freedom horse arrives, we rush to the sea
battling stormwave crests, struggling, heaving

sword swung high, slicing through the pounding

sheets of unremittant rain...


We clash with the wind, in tireless grace 

endeavoring to tame it, to exert our will;
and so youth is spent- young and strong,

bold, meaningless, futile, energetic.



Author notes

Written February 16th, 2005

In a list

A contest entry

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Comments


  • Lady Bird
    February 16, 2005
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    This was excellent...a unique poem that painted interesting images in my mind...I think the first two lines are the most powerful. I really liked this poem Thank you for entering the contest and thank you for following the rules. Good luck!

    -Emily