The wind can be both friend and foe.
Harnessing his power
to make him my own
can never be, I know.
He may clear the air
of any disputes yet leave me
to struggle to breathe,
inhaling what make me sneeze.
He cleans out the cobwebs,
the garden beds, and gutters.
He leaves me breathless
at his show of strength.
He is a lover like no other.
I stand stronger within his embrace.
My body feels lighter,
my countenance tighter,
my body lifted up off my feet.
Wind is my lover, sight unseen,
except for what he brings
and takes from me.
I see his caress of every shrub and tree.
I yearn for his heavy touch on me.
I love the wind.
I am sad to see him die low,
knowing he, too soon, will leave me.
I do not want wind to go.
annarino writes 