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Poem

The Wind howls,
an anguished cry
a peircing scream.....
Whilst spirits huddle around the bed,
the spirits of the wind.
Mounted upon their firey steeds
they too,
howl, 
and cry,
and scream.

A weary sigh, 
a faint whisper,
a painfilled moan.....
and the spirits have claimed her for their own,
the spirits of the wind.
on their snorting stallions they fly away
leaving me shattered to
sigh, 
and whisper,
and moan.

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