The wind will toss its head howling and run fingers
through your uncovered, hair
              you'll discover, there will never be a pulling
but that want, won't go,
until the wind winds down to slow, bringing,
chaos somewhere else,
the whistling through the cracks in your doors and windows,
are catcalls to get you outside,
where the wind will ride you until you are out of breath,
chase the leaves, chase the wind, it will chase you and
                           always win,
but leave you unscathed for the most part unless,
your body, your vessel has cracks which it will fill
then the wind will get inside of you,
and break you down too, or leave you be,
but it is better to fight, the wind than to fight me,
for the winds give up eventually.



©DWE022014