Where the Wind Runs
Where the Wind Runs
The harbour is dropping off and picking up
and I am up to my senses in views.
Battered bunkers,
the city
a randomly stacked bookshelf
against the sky.
Jagged erosion
the break-wall — home
to feral cats and curlews.
I am only a visitor
running to and from each surface
wading to be let in.
I’ll stub my toe,
ruddy the concrete
with each stain of blood.
Heat drops the days anchor.
Salt becomes another emotion.
I move faster now.
Follow my feet up and onto a grass track
the body a wind-break
elevated and still.
A memory startles. The recoil of a starters gun.
It is here the second heartbeat kicks-in.
The refuge of lanes
a body stripped of rations.
My spiked feet
piercing the line.
About this poem
This poem was created from a place which took me back to a moment in my youth where I felt at home, there and still do.
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Written on January 10, 2021
Submitted by fast_foot on December 29, 2021
Modified on March 05, 2023
- 48 sec read
- 121 Views
Quick analysis:
| Scheme | A XXX XXX BXA CXD XEX CBX XXX BDX AEX |
|---|---|
| Closest metre | Iambic trimeter |
| Characters | 738 |
| Words | 161 |
| Stanzas | 10 |
| Stanza Lengths | 1, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3 |
1 fan
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"Where the Wind Runs" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/116761/where-the-wind-runs>.
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