Sunday, November 30, 2008

I am wind.

I blow people's hair.
I pick up things as I patrol the world.
I whisper in peole's ear but no-one can see me.
I spin a cicle of death.


By Genna Lentz

2 comments:

Lori said...
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Lori said...

Genna, I LOVE "patrol the world." Continue with that metaphor throughout the poem, using images that personify the wind as someone who patrols--a soldier, a police officer, or even a parent. Make a couple changes and post again . . . this is getting exciting!