It Serves No Purpose
it serves no purpose to sit at night
hearing the wind gust from the sea
wishing the wind would draw from me
a similar forcefulness.
words that flashed like a kingfisher
have lost their color and their shine
words that dinned like surf
lap like ripples against an anchor chain.
it serves no purpose to remember her
her life has changed and so has mine
traces of her still cling to me
like mist in the morning
self-pity serves tonight's purpose well
wind patrols the fields, guards the past
gusting against all moonstruck men
asserting its creed of violence.
it serves no purpose to sit at night
a spider spinning webs within the dark
the wind rudely rips all webs to shreds
though my fist clench and my words be lost.
Dick Russell © Richard M Russell
2024
Published as The Solipsist’s Song,
Orbis #161, UK.
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