High Wind Blues

By Rudolph Lewis

I woke this morning

wind moaning at the window

my mind ragged as a cedar

Dream as much as I may

the hands of time don’t stop

fallen leaves scatter in air

The sweet-love heat of summer

rushes south as dark clouds

beneath gray November skies

Some memories we must let go

like smoke from a funeral pyre

a sunset on the ocean’s horizon

I drown in words of strife

as my troubled head

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