Önd
turning,
a touch on my cheek.
breeze
wind
leaves circling gold/brown dust
spiral scurry of
wind hair feathers
stream surface dancing with rippled
light,
stillness to movement,
tree-branches shaken wake, streaking the sky
scudding clouds,
wind gusting waves white-capped;
birds drop and soar, circle and plunge
rise wind-tossed, tumble
and recover, in their acrobatics
a course shifted from that they held before.change
turnings
Önda breath on my soul
Copyright © J Blain 1998
All rights reserved
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