A moment ago wind was raging
over my beautiful valley
knocking on window panes
waking me
not to tomorrow, but
to yesterdays of long ago.

I was little then
and wind blew strong
and scared of storms
in Ma's lap I'd hide
begging it to go away.

These days though
I ask the wind to go
not for fear
but the memories
that it brings:
a blessed childhood
that won't be  back,
so wind, let it go
don't remind me so
or knock on my heart's door.