With dust in his mouth,
dun soil spuming, the west wind
rotates the earth beneath the stars.
The coiling horizon shivers,
turns mountain to canyon, falling air,
furious, as it rides the river beds to daylight.
The brown bear builds a den under hollow wood,
considers the season’s dying and sleeps again
as the forest slips into tomorrow’s silence
Weather is coming for all our peoples,
wild and powerful on the clouds of morning
arriving with rain under a yellowing moon.
Then the brown wind breaks itself,
scatters its child-winds into the time to come
till each remembers direction for itself.
rotates the earth beneath the stars.
The coiling horizon shivers,
turns mountain to canyon, falling air,
furious, as it rides the river beds to daylight.
The brown bear builds a den under hollow wood,
considers the season’s dying and sleeps again
as the forest slips into tomorrow’s silence
Weather is coming for all our peoples,
wild and powerful on the clouds of morning
arriving with rain under a yellowing moon.
Then the brown wind breaks itself,
scatters its child-winds into the time to come
till each remembers direction for itself.
© BH, 2022
More about the wind…
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