Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Caller of Storms

Old Wind Mill by Skip Hunt

Caller of Storms

Lying beneath the hand stitched comforters
In her mother's old room
She'd hear the steady rhythm of the old mill
Turning to the spring breeze
She'd awake to the turn of the rusty gears
Heralding a shift of the weather.

She thought she could hear it tell
Of the changes of the seasons as the years passed
Its functioning years long forgotten
It stood as sentinel
Its blades against the clouds
And cried, she believed, in a rusty voice of storms not yet seen.

Grandpa used its rise in pitch
As signal to lock up the barn
And herd the family to the dank cellar
 Where wrapped in a quilt from her bed
She would listen to the howl of the wind above
Singing with the tin windmill.
And believe it called up the storms.

The storms would skip and run
Leaving broken trees and torn tin in their wake
When one leveled the wind pump
Her father bolted the downed pin wheel head
To the side of the old metal shed
As a hex sign, he said
To keep the storms at bay.

J. Binford-Bell
August 2011


  1. I feel you have such a wealth of memories to draw on and so beautifully you do it too. You thought of storms and I thought of heat. Amazing the different ideas that come when shown a picture. I love this - it feels 'old America'.

  2. We have so many of these windmills in outback Australia that whenever I see one I associate it with the dry, dusty, sun-baked redness of the bush.
    I love the poem, especially the last verse :-)

  3. Ohh!This has such a powerful sentiment in it and superb imagery...THanks for sharing this...I liked it!:)

  4. One of my favorites this week ....

  5. I absolutely love this line: 'And cried, she believed, in a rusty voice of storms not yet seen.' Also, really strong closing lines... the idea of it as a hex to '...keep the storms at bay.' Really well done!

  6. I love the notion of the rise in pitch as a signal to lock the barn. Nice write, J.

  7. This is fabulous. I could believe every line.
    — K

    Kay, Alberta, Canada
    An Unfittie's Guide to Adventurous Travel


I appreciate all kind comments on my art and poetry.