Wind

Wind.

Seek the high and lonely places,
let the roar of wind push electronic chatter from your ears,
and drag a tear from an eye that was dry too long.

Breathe deep.

Feel the bite and sting of cold wind rush into the forgotten basements of your lung,
and revel in it.
Anywhere flushed skin is exposed,
the wind will lick and nip.

Seek the high and lonely places,
let the wind push and buffet you and feel small,
look out, across and down,
and feel small.

Breathe deep.

Feel the bite and sting of cold wind rush into the forgotten basements of your mind,
and revel in it,
the wind will rise and bear aloft memories that have been lost.

Note:
I am delighted to say that this was also one of the first poems kindly selected for publication by Elizabeth McKenzie, Editor of Tintéan. Tintéan is the online magazine of the Australian Irish Heritage Network, based in Melbourne, Victoria.
You can read it here: https://tintean.org.au/2017/06/06/poetry-14/