A Dangerous Wind

The wind has shifted again,
coming off of the sea, salty and fresh,
a bit uncertain. a dangerous wind
just as prone to bring in rain
as to carry you out to sea.

About this poem

Every few years I become restless. I never know exactly why or for what. Change. That’s is all I ever seem to be able to identify. The trick is to allow for the change to come without blowing up your world. Fortunately, I don’t have to figure it out. So far, and I am well into life at this point, God always has.

But that does not make the wind any less dangerous. A poem about change. Yearnings, danger, and hope. Poetry is never about one thing.

The photograph was taken in Venice, where the wind blows from the sea, wherever you are.

Be well. Travel wisely.

Tom