The wind has moved on
And I want to follow it,
Feel it mess up my hair,
Smell it blow the rain around
And into my downturned face.

Sometimes I wish
That I was a tree, so
The wind could catch my leaves
And I could feel it
Wrapping its fingers around
My extended limbs
And making me waver
Gently in the breeze.

And sometimes I wish
That I could stop wishing
For the feeling of the wind
And the rain around me,
And persuade myself that
I like my nice warm bed.

But if all wishes came true,
This world would be a confusing
And contradictory place,
And a great many people would
Have died in humorous ways.

04/29/2002

Posted on 04/29/2002
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