Sat, 09/12/2020 - 10:11 -- okbecc

The wind reminds me of something else, on its’ way. 

It pushes like the oceans’ flow. Tells us where to go. 

In time with the moon and orbit, I know. It comes so.

Just the same, with different names. And different strengths and speeds. To claim 

Nothing but rotation, aimed at following the fire into the flame. We just know the wind came.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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