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Just Wind


Clouds hover

in a violet sky

though our eyes

see blue

from a distance

most houses


look peaceful

but the pants


don't fit

shirt tails beg

your pardon

we are helpless

as trees when leaves 



and scatter

in these thoughts

there’s no head

and the pocket watch

has been discarded

prop up

ladders so you don’t

walk under

dig, rake, stare

secure windows

and doors—

what you let in

you might end up



Anais Nin said, “We don’t see things as they are, we see them as we are.” This poem, in many ways, speaks to that point. From a subjective point of view, the reality we experience is “clouded” by our assumptions, biases and anxieties.


Wind is a natural source of white noise and the sound it makes is the friction of it blowing against or passing through something. When you read the poem out loud, notice the wind in your words: the pronunciation of the /s/ sounds ("sky," "eyes," "trees," and "leaves”) produced by the push of air past the roof of your mouth, tip of your tongue and teeth; the /h/ sounds ("hover,", "houses," "head") from air passing through an open throat and mouth; the /b/ and /p/ sounds ("blue," "but," "beg," and "pants," "pardon," and "prop") produced by the release of small bursts of air from closed lips.

Just WindBarbara Campbell
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