In the Garden of Wind’s Delight
Faltering, it drifts
to a stop, rests for a moment
before fluttering to its end.
It is good to be sound.
It is good to trickle through holes.
It is good to be old
even if just one of a crowd.
These notes serve no purpose
yet they linger beyond
their existence.
I listen to their past
for their future. Where are you?
I ask. What is your true name?
“In the Garden of WInd’s Delight” appeared in July 2019 in Nine Muses Poetry. Thank you, Annest Gwilym, for taking this piece.