Robert Verdon, #127, Wind

O’er his white banes, whan they are bare
The wind sall blaw forever mair.

— 'Twa Corbies'

drifting through the dry grass is the wind

I prowl the edge of society

I am the outcast wind

I am the snow in the whiteknuckle mountains

I am the absolute cold between stars

cello wind

I am the scream of the crag's edge

I am the poisoned rabbit fur floating in summer

death-rattle wind

I am the caged cat by the highway

I am the child behind the wire

steamroller wind

juggernaut wind

mourn, O wind

destroy, O wind

I am drifting

I am alone

I am gone.