Mistral
by Sharmagne Leland-St.John

The wind comes from down the mountain
sashays its way
through barren branches
exhales its icy breath
freezing all in its path

The wind comes from down the mountain
blows out the meagre light
from the kerosene lamp
no more shadows dancing
across the barnwood siding

The wind comes from down the mountain
no more silence as it whistles
through the broken pane
whispers through
the lacy curtain

The wind comes from down the mountain
awakens sleeping Jane
as she dreams of springtime
wildflower-dotted meadows
sunshine days

The wind comes from down the mountain
with a swish
and a swoosh
then returns
just the way it came

 

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