Margaret Eckman
Wind
(a Sonnet)
I hear the whisper of the wind at night,
Recall the heady promise it once held,
Excitement, change, adventure, giddy flight,
But weather's wild child has rebelled.
Its flighty ways, its zephyr kiss grow rare,
It has an edge now, shows a darker mood,
No more the friend that flirts and lifts my hair,
It's stronger, quick to anger, wants to feud.
It's grown to tempest, cloaked in raging fire,
Or drenched in swimming pools of drowning rain,
No whispers left; it screams out Gaia's ire,
It rips the cities, devastates the plains.
I hear the wind and whisper pass me by.
The wind stills for a heartbeat, answers Why?
Bio
An editor by trade, Margaret Eckman has come to love the rigor poetry demands—telling a complete story in a few short lines. Her poems have appeared in Art in the Time of Covid, Aurorean, Broadkill Review, Corbel Stone Press's Contemporary Poetry Series, Eastern Iowa Review, Ekphrastic Review, Nantucket Magazine, Wild Word, and other publications.