Let's Fly the Wind
We met at the complex closed for business on a bright chill Saturday, its sky and clouds. Wind sweeps white blossoms off pavement— so much bright-fall we miss in the dark. Our dogs lift noses to scents gone wild; we stayed masked in the wind’s Unknown. So much we haven’t heard in North wind’s news, invisible merchandise, its song. We have no kites, just legs for keeping up with our dogs pursuing flyaway scent. You call your mask a sail, for faraway, safe journeying on a fresh Spring wind.
~ Taylor Graham
first appeared on Medusa’s Kitchen
