Like a wind time passes us,
combing the prairies to sift
the leaves whose sketches
cling into the grass.

The wind floods the forest
caressing each trunk as a mother
soothes a child. How it sweeps
the soil’s heat into the stars
and with it the stench of a buck’s carcass.

It ruffles our hair in the evening
to cool the steam of day.
It blows fierce as we rush to fetch the mail,
pinching our eyes to tears, a reminder
that life is far from a breeze.

Where this current goes I do not know
I’d like to follow but the hour’s late.
So when this wind shall pass once more
I will breathe in deep
filling my lungs with what I can

to let this air ferment
yet soon I’d have no choice
but to return this breath
back into the gust of time.