outside
winds rattle in their Song
glory to themselves
basking in their chill, their roar,
their natural state
of movement —
We- the page- the vessel
the form that gives
the winds their form
as they move
rattle, dance,
their self-assured
Songs of them-selves.
oh wind,
you fearsome friend,
always with the
troubling advice:
“move, keep moving”
written 4.12.11
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