Winds of Fate
Push me against my back, hit in my face,
like any wind you’re elemental and erratic.
Give me a licking or unhurriedly caress,
play hide-and-seek – a child in father’s jacket.
Not telling me what winds await ahead –
dead calm, strong gale, dry hot or boreas.
As the entire world the only truth as old –
last breeze of mine shall fan my deadly face.
Copyright © Oleg Borisov | Year Posted 2009
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment