Wind
That it shudders through
and presages an untimely end,
that it transforms the night’s
body and leaves us
breathless and wanting,
petals strewn about,
messenger and message in one,
corporeal hosts entwined,
that it moves, that it blends,
that it withdraws and returns without
remorse, without forethought, that it
increases, expands, subtracts,
renders, imposes and releases
in one quick breath, saying
I cannot feel but I touch,
I cannot feel
* * *
“Wind” first appeared in Blue Hour Magazine and is included in my first chapbook, If Your Matter Could Reform.
O at the Edges 
The gentle movement so well portrayed
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Thanks, Derrick. The wind is something I just can’t escape!
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This is moving in about three ways. I feel riffled and stirred. 🙂
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Thanks, SJ. This was one of those poems that burst out, seemingly on its own, without much thought.
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Powerful in silence
thoughtless in violence
This section of your poem rattled my bones Robert ..
” that it moves, that it blends,
that it withdraws and returns without
remorse, without forethought, that it
increases, expands, subtracts,”
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The wind is everywhere, even when it’s not!
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So true 🌏😊
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Gorgeous, Robert!
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Thank you, Dianne. Much appreciated.
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Minds me of that riddle in The Hobbit. Voiceless it cries…
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Ah! Voiceless, without body…
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Beautiful.
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Thank you!
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