Saturday, August 24, 2013

August 24, 2013 Sunday Whirl


fierce, filters, keep, enough, pieces, train,
cries, gusting, bitter, springs, south, out

The Time I was Sick

You probably heard my fierce cries
The last few days
I have sadly been under the weather
Down as if I had been hit by a train
Heading south 
Leaving behind only the mournful whistle
Echoing across the plane
Winds gusting 
Churning up dust devils
The taste of bitter springs in my mouth
I spit it out
Keep only enough to wet my own whistle
If only the filter could keep out
All that would harm

As humans 
We are such vulnerable creatures

Note:  Images from the internet.