The wind rushes by
With an unseen push
Of an untouched sound
In the dark December sky

The trees speak to me
In the cold raking air
Branches outstretched
Like fingers through hair

Yet I do not understand
What it is they try to say
But I find littered leaves
Evidence, found in day

The wind yet pushes by
A pressure on the soul
To whisper long lost secrets
Trapped in a currents pull