Lonesome Wind

Lonesome wind, you’re a restless wind
Moaning across a silver, silent field
In the dead of night,
Searching for one single, solitary friend
Who in empathy perhaps might yield
And then take flight
Within your empty sorrowing arms
You would lift her, up, up and away
A phantom mate
And oh, how winsome were your charms
And you would soon forget the gray
You’ve seen of late
And then your moaning would become
A soft, light-hearted laughter
Of sweet delight
Then you would finally take her home
But not until long after
You’ve spent the night

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

I was turning off my computer
when I heard the wind
moaning a low and sorrowful song
beckoning, it seemed,
searching for a kindred spirit....
but still it wails.