The man who cried against the wind <br />flew up through hurricanes of doubt <br />one season when the winter's rule <br />ran sternly; his arms were bright, <br />and bright his eye and gold his crown <br />and green right to the heart of him; <br />he cried against the winds at night, <br />he wandered back a million miles <br />through peril and delight, still hungering <br />athough his cheek was fat, <br />although his hands had killed for meat; <br />the senses, unruly, wandering, <br />made him cry grimly in the night, <br />calling the ghostly ones back <br />through thorn and over sand, <br />under sun and under moon, <br />to cry against the wind. <br /> <br />1985<br /><br />Will Barber<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-man-who-cried/
