Wild is the wind
it's whispering to me
and swishing trees against my skin
fullerbrush wiping me clean of something unseen.
I like the way you cover up everything for a second
when you come rushing through
I see your game—chasing me—and I am glad to fall down
and let you swirl above me.
Will you blow a sweet dream into my night mind?
I have a question,
I think you know it.
1 comment:
Poetry isn't my thing, but I did read and it was, in fact, very pretty.
iclw.
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