Susan Adams


'Where do you go when the wind doesn't blow?'
The pain of knowing there is no longer young
words on lips of simplicity
complicated by youth fantasy, naivety.

Maturity and experience know the replies of lives
a few still ask, but their rationality
won't let them dance fine wires of insanity
the fall too high, the look in others eyes
keep them anchored to their feet – on the pavement
of decorum, sensibility, the expectation of others.