The wind will never wrest

a sheer force with non-existent will
searches through the near empty street
for no sign of direction

bowed heads with tear soaked eyes
hold a step like a photograph
with no desire to smile

branches resemble long thrashing arms
above its long lost and falling sons
both furious and helpless

a determined breath exhales
through lip pursed gaps
to whistle and whisper along corridors

turning heads with disturbed minds
sinuously sneaking under an old window
stuck inches from conclusion

finally gaining a voice to be heard
in the guise of an open bedroom door
enticed to collide with its frame

a cold and confused light blinks into the room
past the rippling protest of a single curtain
red veined eyes open within blue touched skin

caught like a spirit between time
an opaque scene is left behind in transition
as i momentarily look upon two creations

and let out a sigh of relief
for this is the world i inhabit
as the other begins to elude the memory

the door tentatively interupts
as it creaks open once more
to reveal the answer that questioned sleep