Listen to the Wind

Younger days // pounds lighter // full of energy

I climbed the mountain at Hone Quarry

all the way to the top

where winds speak harshly

and pines bend and twist

downwind in their wake

I paused to rest // sitting still

eavesdropping on nature

whispering secrets

Today is Quadrille Monday, when we write a poem of exactly 44 words. Kim asked us to use the word eavesdrop in any form we like as our prompt. I decided to take my eavesdropping to the top of the mountain in the George Washington National Forest, in Virginia. I was amazed at how twisted the short scrub pines were up there. The wind up there never seems to stop blowing across the top. This is a train of consciousness poem.

Join us at:

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Freedom is…

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Freedom is like the wind
A cool breeze on a warm day
Refreshingly comforting
Freedom is like the wind
That roars outside your window
Chills you to the bone
Freedom is like the wind
Destructive and deadly
Bringing shock and awe
Freedom is like the wind
Throwing tantrums // a little child
Sweet one moment screaming another
Freedom is like the wind
That lifts you high above
Giving new perspective
Freedom is like the wind
A gentle spirit calming one’s soul
Reviving life restoring the beauty
Freedom comes with responsibility
Peace or destruction
The choice is up to you


Pboto: Dwight L. Roth


Digging Up Bones


We woke this morning to rain and autumn winds whipping the trees. By lunchtime the rain had moved out for a brief recess. A friend of ours took me and my two brothers down by the river to what was once a coal patch of houses on the hill side. We were told we could find some old coke ovens still in tact up in the brush. As we drove slowly along the railroad tracks we scanned the wooded areas. Suddenly, through the trees, we saw some glimpses of holes in the side of the hill that looked like abandoned coke ovens. We waded through the weeds and brush and sure enough, there they were. The fronts were gone but the brick work inside was still holding it together. We actually crawled into the oven and took photos which you can see below. It was a great day for finding skeletons of the past.

Autumn wind and rain

Not enough to hinder us

Coke Ovens still there







Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Coke ovens burning at night

Coke Ovens Burning in the early 1900s – Photo provided by Ed West

Frank Tassone suggested we do a Haikai challenge using either autumn or spring winds. Come join us at:



Music in the Key of G


Most of us think of music as something that is sung or played on and instrument. We may not be aware that there is music all around us. Music is the arrangement  and production of sounds and tones with unity and continuity. This poem shares all of the sounds around us that we might take for granted that have a musical quality to them. I did the painting above to show that music has movement and flow throughout.

Nature’s Music in the Key of G

Ebb and flow creating music for our ears

Oceans rolling gently onto a sandy beach

Crashing waves revealing the power of nature

Washes away anything in its path

A bubbling stream rolls over the rocks

Flowing in harmony with wind and birds

Listen to the rain beating down on a tin roof

Nature’s washboard of Cajun rhythms

Now and then a percussion clap of thunder

Punctuating the music with a boom

As flashes of the ELO lights the stage

The rustle of snare drum leaves

Playing to sandy perfection under it all

Rising and falling as the wind conducts

Little wrens with piccolo voices

Add harmonic pitches to the production

The cold snowy winds of December

Whistle as they sneak ‘round our porch

Playing against the crackling fire

Licking the burning logs with smacking lips

So much music all around

The frogs on warm summer nights

Cicadas making their seventeen year debut

Cricket violins playing behind hearth stones

Wild geese honking

As they fly north to their summer homes

All bring their harmonies to the score

Blending in the ebb and flow

Of nature’s grand symphony in the key of G


Painting of G Clef – Dwight L. Roth


The Wind’s Tongue



The Wind’s Tongue

The dry wind’s tongue

Licks harshly at the sagebrush

Flicking tumbleweed

Across the deserted highway

Licking rocks smooth

Chasing rattlesnakes into their dens

The wet tongue of the wind

Laps at the lighthouse door

Drooling on windows

Eating the dunes

Like a kid’s melting ice cream cone

Lapping at every side

Tasting the sprinkles

As it spews out each mouthful

Into the ocean once again

The cold wind’s tongue

Sharp and cutting at 20 below

Seeking every inch of exposed flesh

Nail embedded kisses on our cheeks

Licking warm windows

Leaving growing crystals

As it laps up and down the glass

The warm wind tongue

Licks gently at our skin

Caressing on hot days

Half naked bodies

Enjoying  sand and surf

Cool kisses at sunset

Watching waves roll in

Dragon tongue of the wind

Miles long

Indiscriminate lashings

Destroying everything in its path

Forked twisted tongue

Rising like the devil himself

Trying to lay us low

Only making us stronger

Building resilience and strength

Rising from the rubble


Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Rotten to the Core


Rotten to the Core

Even the giants can be rotten to the core

Beautiful on the outside and not much more

A view that makes folks ooh and aah

Shake their heads admiringly he’s come very so far


Strong bulging limbs give appearance of strength

Wide spread arms are open full length

Children enjoy his shade climbing high in his arms

Higher they climb without fear or alarm

Yelling and hollering,  “Mom look at me!”

Dads down below asking, “Wbat do you see?”

This old giant’s been around for very many  years

Seen wind and rain and even a few tears

But now he gone ready for the flames

Lying on the ground on a horizontal plane


No one knew he was rotten to the core

Everyone thought he would last a few more

But when that fateful wind gripped his strong limbs

He fell with a crash no holding back the wind

When all had gathered to wonder and know more

They saw to their shock he was hollow and rotten to the core


Things take their toll when death comes knocking at your door

Especially when you’re hollow and rotten to the core



Photos: Dwight L Roth

Wind & Humans


Wind & Humans

Where does the wind get its strength

Acting just like us humans

A soft breeze especially pleasant

Caresses our face on a late summer evening

How then can the wind roar and moan

As it passes through the trees outside my house

Passive winds transformed into terrible giants

Throwing temper tantrums shrieking high notes

Why the anger in its voice as it flails about

Breaking limbs twisting treetops uprooting oaks


It all comes down to hot air just like us

The cold resistance meeting the hot head of thunder

Just like we humans the wind reacts to hot air

As the thunderheads build power increases

Till it just can’t take it any more just like us

All hail breaks loose as outbursts violently erupt

Where hot heads and frigid hearts meet trouble resides

Demanding tearing up everything in sight blowing off steam

Just like some humans who just can’t take it anymore


Last night a huge front came through with strong winds and rain. The wind took out the giant oak that sat in the yard at the entrance of our community. After it blew over we could see that the center was rotten and hollow.  The strength of the wind is amazing. So volatile and unpredictable, just like humans.

Photos: Dwight L. Roth