windmill's tale

life comes in different forms, an icon from the old west sings

galvanized silvery white old west icon

your head is like a metallic flower's face

ghostly towered windmill,

you stand tall and lonely in the mid day heat 

i could almost walk through you

and pull myself  back to the day you were built

there are no turns of your blades now

you're a silent testimony,

a speechless stoic witness

with your gnarled companion the water trough, 

who's contained your deep pristine water draw 

you've pulled from depths of california's coastal range

over countless days and nights you've stood

under starry moons

comets go and come

you've seen halley's twice

turning, spinning

by countless winds 'n breezes

turning, spinning 

wildly in dust storm's blast

turning true, spilling water 

in these foothills, the diablo range

your triangle shadows pasted on the cracked earth

their soft slate grey tint imprint 

forms a quilt of motionless layered dust  

crosshatch slats, dirty light between penumbras

i could almost walk through you

and pull myself back to the day you were built

i hear you waking up a bit, you find the courage 

to speak to me,

a stranger who wants to hear your tales

you find your voice

a tiny squeak at first,

you stutter,

your wind moves you a little 

and then a lot,

releasing pent up speech 

and then you roll

off and away, 

a steady chant, 

an excited song you cannot contain, 

yes, go on, i'm listening,

what a marvelous yarn you spin