Like Chaff

There is wind at my back
I have not seen
Though I have felt
Its irresistible blow.

I cling to places
And people
But the force is stronger
Than my desire to stay.

Sometimes it keens
Other times it moans
But is always consistent
In its purpose to push me on.

Were it a sentient being
I would try reason
Anything to create dialogue
But it is a powerful, controlling force.

It moved me beyond you
Out of range of your arms
Your kiss
Your sweet voice.

It blows through the craggy places
In my soul
And the howling you hear is not the wind
But the sorrow that sifts me like chaff.