West Texas Wind
Beauty comes in so many formsAnd ugliness is the master of deception
The wind blows all the days of summer and carries the dust in the hot high plains sun
Nostalgia is so damn masochistic
All the time spent living in a past that is just that
All the longing for a time long gone
I go to a place and I have been there before
But that was two or three lives of mine ago
Places remind me of events that I forgot to remember
The familiar becomes the deadly delivery system of that self inflicted memory
I return to the life I live now
It is not changed by the stroll through the past
It is not altered by my need to suffer
It is what it is, the present
And it is persistent like the summer wind
And some days it stings the like the blowing dust
And now in the late afternoon when the siesta should bring comfort
I am haunted by my own desire for things that have gone and blown away
All those things that almost destroyed me
All those beautiful things that I cling to now
And everywhere I look I see the beauty
It is as apparent as the wind
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