In case you haven't noticed yet, the wind in "Wind" is pretty violent. It's like some tough-talking 1950s greaser, smoking a cigarette and flicking a switchblade. We don't know what exactly the wind might be capable of, but it can knock birds away and shuffle hills around. It's a bad dude, and you don't want to mess with it. The wind can trample fields like a bunch of wild horses and wield "blade-light" in the sky—which sounds like some sort of Dragon Ball Z-type thing. This is the wind as brought to you by Quentin Tarantino: a smash-happy, trash-talking collection of moving air. It will mess you up.
Questions About Violence
Does the speaker think that violence the most definitive aspect of Nature? How can you tell?
Which is more violent—Nature or humanity? How might our speaker answer this question?
Do you think the speaker is afraid of Nature? What parts of the poem support your decision?
Chew on This
This poem proves it: violence is the most essential part of Nature.
Not so fast there. This poem actually shows us that the violence we find in Nature is only a reflection of our own, human fascination with violence.