A Breathless, Feeble Wind
A breathless, feeble wind blows,
not even strong enough to stir the drapes,
too enervated and too insipid to be a breeze.
And I know it,
I do not feel my sweat evaporate,
but gather and trickle down my heated back,
and I seize the moment to turn on the fan,
and there is not one movement among the trees.
I am a child of the light,
I am a child who values reason and emotion alike.
Give me a poetry of the heart and head,
and I do not need a stiff breeze to relax.
I am happy with light long enough to read a rispetto,
and my life has three dreams: truth, beauty, and pleasure.
- Phillip Ellis 2014
Phillip's books
1 comment:
Another wonderful poem by Phillip Ellis, a friend and fellow poet.
Michael Lee Johnson, the Itasca, IL. poet.
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