I wrote this in the late 80s, lost it and rediscovered it recently. Originally it came to me as a song, which I never quite finished, but I think it stands well on its own. While waiting for a train home from work I saw a homeless man in his own private journey through space and time. He seemed to be content to dance with the blowing leaves and oblivious to others in the area. I envied him.

Wind Dancer

Wind dancer follow the leaves to the sky,

Follow your dreams and you'll fly.

Old man of the city the streets are your home

With no place to go so you go there alone.

As you walk through the gutter half out and half in

In search of a bottle that's half full of gin.

In bitter cold weather in the sleet and the rain

You huddle in doorways to keep out the pain.

And you long for the days with the leaves and the sun,

And a breeze you can dance to 'til that day is done.

Wind dancer dance with the wind and you'll see,

Follow the leaves and be free. 

© Alan Winters