In the wind's speech

12-degree day, fitful sun, cloudy -
more digging and pulling
grass will not control the flower
beds, having its field day
has to stop

it wears at my body, the task -
at my fingers, hands, wrists,
back -
perhaps we are too frail
to fight nature
and win

I will not give in yet - I
see the way I want it to be:
to get to easier maintenance
is my goal
but I know
it will not co-operate

more time to focus, it is true,
but less to do other things -
there is no balance here -
so many beginnings ...

fragrant water awaits
to soothe away my pains
my knots -
brave the day and keep
going

the wind is my kin
the birds for companion
the clouds my frieze
there is nothing else but these

and the angel's wings

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