Prevailing
Tell me, tree, of the wild easterly wind
that scythes up the valley floor towards you
bends you away from its in-your-face blast
freezes you in a state of perpetual flight
Tell me how they speak of it in these parts;
the hushed tones they use to call it prevailing
Despite its worst efforts, I see you still standing
It’s clear to me that something is prevailing here
Grant Shimmin is a South African-born poet who has lived in New Zealand since 2001. His passions are words, humanity, justice, the natural world. He has work published in more than 30 journals worldwide.

Awesome poem. I live in a windy part of the US and can relate to prevailing winds and leaning trees.
LikeLike