Those old wayward winds
ancient as time itself
ceaselessly blow carelessly
tossing every memory about
like tumbleweeds on the prairie.
Fondest thoughts of those days
gone by and humorous antics all
fly away on that silly old breeze.
Wonderful times of love and joy see
themselves vanish into the sunset
while sunny times and days of pain
sail away on those ancient old winds.
Everything near and dear to my old heart
rush across the land bouncing along on
those mighty winds as I hear its dreadful
call to come on home to my eternal resting place.
Donavon Scott Vinson
