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Talking to the Wind
I’ve been talking to the wind.
He feels the storm coming, too.
He nuzzles my cheek
and the getaway van is marked a getaway van.
It’s been a learned unit of time
since the last storm you encountered.
I was two generations away
Desperately trying to catch you,
Set sail across you,
Drink you,
Caress the lightning with you,
And the thunder.
In the same way you nuzzled my cheek,
I comfort you,
I’ll always comfort you -
It’s how I calm myself.
We talk, like others talk to god,
On a level playing field,
Though you never ask of me,
You only ask I remember
When my thoughts alarm you,
That the gust of wind
Wasn’t created by a sea breeze,
But was you, comforting me.
