The wind takes away
the bitter seeds
planted
on an otherwise
justified day
there is a difference
in the dimension of the
changing
of the wind
a sweet breeze plants the hope for a new season
not unearthing
that which was tilled
with love
the fierce, almost howl of the talons of the wind
ripping
like a hailstorm
through the day
unearths
what was never meant to be planted
Today
I thank both the fierce winds
and the sweet breeze of my existence
