The wind
under the eaves
is moaning
droning.
The ghost
of March
not knowing
April is here.
Flaunting
haunting
as if it would
as if it could
reach in
and pull me
from
safety.
It groans
it moans
it finds
no entry.
It cannot touch
not now
not ever
the stillness
within.
lit bits and pieces 
Ooooh I like this moaning groaning flaunting haunting write! Thanks.
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I am so glad you do – thank you!
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“as if it would / as if it could / reach in / and pull me / from / safety.”
These lines, right here. They speak to your strength, to your resolve.
Just beautiful.
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Thank you. Have heard the wind making ghosty noises for days now, an eerie background sound effect to the times. This morning the poem just kind of arrived in response. So glad you enjoyed 😊
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I pray that the wind will not touch you within. Unfortunately, it’s touching more and more and taking many day by day. Thanks for sharing your writing. Will you be sharing a poem every day?
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The relentless moaning of the wind under the eaves here has been an eerie, metaphorical soundtrack of these days, for sure. I wrote a poem in my Spiritual Journey post today — I like to think I could write a poem a day for April but wonder if I can sustain it.
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The moaning groaning that you have heard at night is a representative sound haunting us all. I have used the darkness of the grey skies as a similar symbol since there is so much pain out there that is touching humanity. If you can write a poem a day for April, you will be documenting your days. I wonder how many of our thoughts will be read by those years from now, Fran. Will people understand the depths of pain and the lengths we will go through to protect our stillness and faith? Thank you for lifting me with your poetry, Fran.
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I’ve wondered about people coming across our writings in the future … that is a profound thought about “depths of pain and lengths we go through to protect our stillness and faith.” As always your perception is amazing – thank you for lifting me with your words, Carol.
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