There comes the wind
Like a rider from the west
A screen of dust and sand
A silhouette and sunset.
There comes the wind,
Bringing many stories
Of travellers and caravans
Of borders and fences.
There comes the wind
With a rustle of leaves
Dried and wasted
Like putrid memories.
There comes the wind
With few scraps of paper
Words of love and longing
And passions forbidden.
There comes the wind
Carrying expectations
Of clouds and rain
A farmer's tales.
There comes the wind
With many dreams
Of heroes and saviours,
Of disappointing realities.
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