The willful wind whistled in the rafters.

It’s an urgent need to know what matters.

The air was still and my mood was plunging;

Then a breeze touched my face, left me smiling.

A strong updraft snatched paper from the ground;

while rolling a trash bin without a sound.

One leaf trembled within a crowded bush;

clever wind to infiltrate, an “inrush.”

Ruffling the twigs, the top, a tall tree –

The wind’s its mother, affectionate glee.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s