The Weathervane

i can promise nothing

i am a rusted weathervane

atop a crumbling church spire

spinning with random gusts

tethered tenuously by tangled wire


the shingles below marked by ferruginous stain

a sparrow shelter…a splintered domain

frail fledgling filoplumes gather

in the shadow of a chicane


i know not which way I will turn

aligning east, yet… how I yearn

to be free of memory’s corrosive burn

as sunset’s halycon hues

will my flaked metal




43 thoughts on “The Weathervane”

  1. Reminded me of dad’s old rustic weathervane on top of the shed, and these word touched me deeply
    “i know not which way I will turn
    aligning east, yet… how I yearn
    to be free of memory’s corrosive burn”
    And there’s a lovely David Francey song to go with your marvelous words

    Liked by 2 people

      1. And you, dear friend … are an insomniac haha. Get some sleep … warm hugs for a blissful night handsome πŸ™‚


      2. Yes I am, I took a drug to knock out an elephant 🐘 it’s 5.00am and I’m awake again, maybe I awoke to see if I’d become handsome ☺️ok, I’ll try for more sleep now…. πŸ˜†


  2. Your poems are always layered, Diana – that goes without saying. Imagery and metaphors blend so well in each alliterative line, that it seems like the poet is touching upon multiple themes in every single one. This could be interpreted in so many ways… An autobiographical account of an inanimate object; or something deeper, the account of a life reflecting on the past and it’s presence in the present; the fear and anticipation for the future; or the feeling of tiredness, worthlessness and loss of direction… The more I read it, the more depth I see in your work of art. Once again, you resurrect forgotten words and weave them into a magical, mesmerising piece, O Poet of the West!
    Congratulations! ❀

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Oh there is never inanimate objects on the Wandering Armadillo, sweet friend! Even a rock here would be infused with a a lifeblood of it’s own. Or a bookmark, an egg…;)
      I feel very honoured that you continue to support me with the enthusiasm that you do!I feel that your comments are genuine and so much more than the expected courtesy between pen pals. You get me, and that is truly ovation worthy!! ❀

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I agree! πŸ’œ You truly bring things to life… Words, objects, poetry! It is my privilege to be a part of the Wandering Armadillo’s wonderful blog 🌹

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Such a vivid imagery you have created with your first stanza that I am set into a scene of rustic neighborhood dwelling under the skies, heavy loaded with grey clouds. Silence of introspection prevails, often silenced by gusts of present time, pulling me back to reality. I vacillate between the extremes of guilt and then rationalizing my actions.

    Stop writing poignant pieces! My heart can jump anytime from this rib cage, finding solace in the freedom of expression you iterate! Save me!

    The Bar is raised! AWESOME! ❀ ❀ ❀

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I have to be careful with that bar! It might be at the wrong height and if I run at it it might knock this swelling head … enlarging from your warm praises! I need to apply a cool compress to my temples πŸ™‚
      We are all subject to the forces of the “winds’ of our existence, tossing us about. Sometimes we are unrestricted, moving freely and other times all tangled and stiff, resisting when we are weathered.
      The trick is to not be blown off the roof and at the same time resist breezes that will turn us the wrong way!
      Or something like that. Why must I always speak in metaphors!

      You are saved; you are loved!
      ❀ ❀

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Lyrical genius. It may seem frivolous sometimes and ‘just being nice’, but your words really do delight dear friend. Dare I say, brush strokes upon the soul; red, yellow, orange, blue, grey, cold, warm, and they pull emotions from the heart. May you never cease to pen a verse for want of praise, appreciation or inspiration.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. This is a stunningly beautiful comment to read, reminding me of the quality of your writing dear man. I thank you ❀
      Come in and let me pour you a drink πŸ™‚ I'm so lucky to have you visit….

      Liked by 1 person

  5. I will never look at another weathervane again in the same way after reading your wonderful words, dear Diana! You are a true wordsmith and a fabulous photograher, too! Stunningly beautiful image, and words cleverly woven into a most memorable piece of poetry! πŸ™‚

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Diana, every single poem your craft has a deeper meaning in every single metaphor you use. I loved the way you have used the weathervane as a metaphor to define the uncertainty of life and how we get bogged down by the uncertainties and lose our direction. Though a weather vane is supposed to tell us the direction of the wind its own identity is undefined.
    These are my favorite”i know not which way I will turn
    aligning east, yet… how I yearn to be free of memory’s corrosive burn”. Don’t we all yearn for this in our life? Such beautiful composition, my dear.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Sweet lady, what a truly lovely comment to contemplate. It was a beautiful day on WordPress when our lines (worded) crossed. You are so enthusiastic and productive with your blog … and I’m honoured when you find the time to read a little of me. I’m fairly certain you will find my activity seasonal: when the winter rains come I will be indoors reading you religiously. Hugs over the hills beautiful lady ….. ❀

      Liked by 1 person

  7. I love it that there aren’t any inanimate objects on the Wandering Armadillo! And I love weather vanes! When I was a child, one of my uncles had a black rooster weather vane. To me it was a mysterious object. I knew it showed the direction of the wind, but I felt there was something more to it – as if it was secretly alive and doing strange things at night.
    This was a great metaphor for uncertainty!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Oh I would have been totally obsessed with the black rooster swivelling and casting shifting shadows. I wonder if he is still spinning at the whim of the wind?
      So lovely to hear from you Basilike; always a thrill to be read by a writer I truly admire ❀

      Liked by 2 people

      1. You are admirable yourself, Diana! And it is always exciting to see that you write about things I can relate to, or that your feelings are mine too.
        The black rooster has disappeared long ago. I think I am going to ask my uncle about it. It was such a beautiful thing!


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