Mistral
Free Verse
There’s something in the paleness of the winter
that takes my mind to white sails and cruel,
merciless talks.
There’s something in the notes of a song
that makes me dream of the silence
that hung over our heads when the right words
were no longer right.
And in the dead of the night,
there’s a sun whispering promises you made
under a moon eternally pregnant with truths
exiled to lands where you and I have never met
and will never meet
because certain dreams never stood a chance,
labelled unworthy of pursuit.
Or maybe they once were given a moment of thought,
maybe with the wrong people,
at a wrong time,
on wrong grounds,
doomed to die at birth.
So you can run all you want,
You can talk all you like,
I’ve stopped long ago chasing and listening to
The wind.
