the words elude me so, but the
wind speaks persistently
and insists that i listen;
i can not think when she speaks-
but nonetheless she whistles through the trees.

and how appropriate that on this hallows eve
the first snowflakes fall
as from my window
i watch her fly by in circles,
and for the first time realize
that the currents pushing the words
ever out of my reach
are composed of my own breath.

11/01/2006

Author's Note: it's a try.

Posted on 11/02/2006
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams