National Poetry Month: Wild Winds

Had to sneak in one more of my poems before the end of National Poetry Month. This one is also from my 'Learning to Stop' phase, and like many of the others was written almost exactly ten years ago. Wild Winds is one of the many poems from that time that explored the 'guy' perspective.

Wild Winds

Muddy boots
horizon in my eyes
I orphaned my grief
and ran with wild winds
to Wyoming mountains

Winter castaway
icicles in my beard
Alone with white rivers
wolves and wheeling eagles
where nothing gentle survives

Free until one morning
Spring enchanted winter
caressed the icicles
until their strength
ran like tears

I left Wyoming
before April's deep blue thunder
and ran with wild winds
to find a harsher place
where nothing gentle survives