Wind gusts through darkening fields
Grant a somber chill to spoken words
Philosophy and inspiration are illustrated
through thrashing trees
Memories are carried in wisps
To land upon your lips,
Shared in whistling accompaniment.
I close my eyes against the burning
Listening to the song of nostalgia in your voice
My hair whips around my face and
I look up to meet your gaze -
We smile softly against the wind,
Sighing with content in your thoughts.