Bury Your Face in the South Wind of May

Bury Your Face in the South Wind of May

Do not
shun the south wind.
Its cargo is summer—
rain and birds and awakening
insects.

And when
It shifts slightly
west the flowers grow wild
in their sorrow, bloom dangerous
in nights

heavy,
thick, with the smoke
of pistils. No, do not
shun the south wind, turn and bury
your face

boldly
deep in its shy
crevices of fragrance,
trace with each breath its moist odours
of earth,

and through
inscrutable
nights go riding on it,
riding and hiding your pain till
daylight.

Willie Nelson—Red Headed Stranger

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
This entry was posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cinquain, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Spring, Summer, The Wind and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to Bury Your Face in the South Wind of May

  1. Dave says:

    Bury Your Face is great

    Like

Mumble back at me

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