Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Walking the halls 
was walking in circles.
She seemed to be consistently planning 

Scribing the 
walls with codes,
 with signs,
 with messages.

The bear skin coat whooshed and swayed 
as she eddied about.

"Miles deep and endlessly wide, you are my constant, my confide"

Speaking to no one, but with the wind. 

A wind that had been both kind and cruel,
The wind had be the culprit who had blown the storm and 
Hampered the speed 
of her carriage as she had sped 
to her fathers side the night he had passed. 

She had not been present 
to hear her fathers last words 
no one had heard them they had been lost to the wind 
and this troubled her deeply. 

On the day of the funeral 
a warm breeze flew through 
the cemetery 
and it caught her attention.