A stiff brisk wind woke up the home,
reanimating drapes and letters
scattered on the tattered rug
and sending postcards from their shelves
across the floor, as if recounting
all the places we had toured.

Your photo frame rocks back and forth
just as you sat upon the porch
and stared across the golden fields
to reminisce of younger days
you gathered eggs or climbed up trees
or rode the horse downtown and back.

How you would slowly comb your hair
and hum such songs I never learned
or breathe some verse from memory
before your turned in for the night
and mumbled prayers unto the stars
or murmured in your dreamy sleep.

The weathervane, once stuck for good,
revolves as freely as it should.
Old windmills spin reluctantly,
just like the clock that sometimes stops.
Your wind chimes tingle with a tune.
So cold now, though they claim it's June.

Westerly © Copyright 2021, Robert J. Tiess.

View this poem at AllPoetry.com

151 words.  Andrew Wyeth art inspiration (Prompt 2, wind from sea) challenge prompt - link: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2785002-Andrew-Wyeth---Art-Inspired-Contest-
Submitted: August 2, 2021

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