(written March 2023)
Unsplash Image by Zugr kmF
Whispers in the wind carry your name to me.
But I will not believe to be true what I cannot see.
If you were standing next to me and I heard the words from your lips.
I might trust what I hope to be true.
Whispers can be misinterpreted
like hollow promises.
My hands already bear the calluses of the storm you left behind.
As I tried to keep my ship afloat,
my sails upright.
So I let the wind carry the whispers into the distance until I no longer hear the wind calling your name with endless persistence.
Copyright © 2023 Maggie Watson
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