Taking a stab at a new-to-me form: the Ghazal
Autumn kisses the trees with a rusty wind
exhaled from October’s lungs, a lusty wind
Grabbing loose garden soil by the fistful
Whirling mini-tornadoes in the dusty wind
Bending sunflowers into cruel yoga poses
Yanking petals off zinnias, the gusty wind
Arm-twisting the laundry on the line until
it gives in, surrendering to the crusty wind
Women parade in body-hugging sweaters
as men savor the shapes of the busty wind
Old curmudgeon hollers at kids on his lawn
It mellows and dies away on the fusty wind
A child’s hat is snatched and tumbles along
a loss blamed, as always, on the trusty wind
Invisibly dancing with everything in its path,
it shows itself; come, you must see the wind
Have a comment? Click HERE to share it!
Want to participate in weekly POETIC THERAPY?
Click HERE to view the rules of engagement.