• The Falling Wind
    By A. Sims

    The wind fell on silent faces
    All around the waterfront they gathered
    The lake stood still
    Silent that summer morning
    There echoed no sounds of joy
    They stood by the hill
    And shared their memories
    Of the son,
    The friend,
    The poor drowned boy
    The tears they flowed
    The men they woed
    And everyone cursed fate
    They sent his soul
    The church bells tole
    They all weep as they congregate
    The service ends
    They move along
    And time resets to pulsing strong
    His memory fades
    They make no hymns
    To commemorate his name amongst the wronged
    Now he is gone
    Left with no name
    For us to hang his tragic life upon
    But in the summer
    You can hear a whisper
    "The falling wind
    will carry me
    in natures song..."