I am of the wind…
A wisp of the battering wind…
I trail my fingers along the Alps
And an avalanche falls in my wake…
I feel in my quivering length
When it buries the hamlet beneath…
I hurriedly sweep aside
The cities that clutter our path…
As we whirl about the circle of the globe…
As we tear at the pillars of the world…
Open to the wind,
The Destroyer!
The wind that is battering at your gates.
(Lola Ridge)
More Poetry from Lola Ridge:
Lola Ridge Poems based on Topics: World, Cities- The Ghetto (Lola Ridge Poems)
- Betty (Lola Ridge Poems)
- The Song Of Iron (Lola Ridge Poems)
- The Everlasting Return (Lola Ridge Poems)
- Frank Little At Calvary (Lola Ridge Poems)
- Celia (Lola Ridge Poems)