Poem: "Bitter Wind" by Ted Axe

Bitter Wind
Ted Axe c

The wind sings
An ominous note
As it blows
Right through my soul.
Dead leaves scuttle
Across frozen ground
Become memories,
Regrets from days of old.
The winds whisper
An ocean of moans
Waves rushing onto my shore
A monsoon of woes,
Here on this killing floor.