Wander me

Gimme a wind, a harsh unforgiving March onshore slap in the face lean into and step out wind. Scrub me clean of all this wait and see what's next. Carry me away from these endless tomorrows. Let me see Today again rushing up the tide.

Reviews

[Violet's Run]

A scot/Irish are you mate? My family is Baird, Clan Baird... Scotland. the other half is Cherokee..
I love your poem i can feel the brisk sharp salty March wind. In March the winds are fierce on the bitter coast scrubbing everything clean and fresh getting. In ancient times April 1 was the new year.. So the March winds are doing a real spring clean. Love your imagery and inviting, lovely view.
susan