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A Young Wind

I heard a howling young wind
and wondered
if I heard a howling young wind outside
across my parking lot
and through the tops
of all the trees
across the street.

But I also wondered
if maybe what I heard
was an ancient wind, an older one
blowing in from the cold north.
I asked myself if winds age,
indeed,
if the wind ages and continues to mature,
or if it dies quickly like I've always assumed.

And when I asked my questions,
I was answered back with a howling reply,
that I've yet to decipher.

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Editing stage: 

Comments

I love this. It is whimsical somehow. I think this suits well the wind's nature.
Enjoyed!!

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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I do agree with Rula. This is different. Some poets will tell you not to repeat words when you can but I think this is still well done.

Alid

This amused me ... unique content and smart ...the ending is amazingly 'hip' ( that means a really good thing in my vernacular).

a charming self awareness shines brightly from this piece.

I was not active on the site when this poem was first published, or I would definitely have commented on it as soon as it was posted!
It's my 'cup of tea'

Al

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