Pause for poetry:
Michael Hawkes /9
A poem by Michael Hawkes
A wind from the wilderness whines through the city;
The same sighing wind plows the plains of Siberia
And kicks at the rollers in Bering Strait;
The same plaintive howl sweeps the streets
To which the wolves responded,
For which the night owls wait.
From moaning across the tundra
Then gathering speed over Hudson’s Bay
Now through my cell it reverberates.
Bringing forlorn thoughts of winter storms,
Woebegone stoves in smoke filled dorms
And loneliness in all its forms,
With dreams of no escape
From the ceaseless hustle of rushing air,
Or from the longing it inflates.
Read also: other poems