try to feel good
try not to feel bad
no anger, grief, negativity


I don't try to control the wind
it blows hard or soft
gentle and warm
ice finger tickling
or roaring howling rain
or snow blown against my face

I let the wind blow
through me
I feel the wind
sometimes I curl up and batten the hatches
for a particularly hard blow
it's best to ride it out

and the vast sea depths
change slowly

I dreamed of rain


Annie's grandmother's house had a wraparound porch.  

It was a big half circle that faced the street and stretched

almost to the backyard


We used to hang out there after school

since it was halfway between our two houses and

neutral ground between our families 


Annie's grandmother made us Lemonade and sometimes cookies

she would talk to us for a while,  pat me on the shoulder

then left us alone


Just the two of us, on the porch

on a swing,  not talking, just watching traffic

listening to the windchimes


I still think of that sound when humid summer fades into fall

as the winds turn around to the North

and shades trees empty themselves into piles of leaves  


Annie left town a few years back and her Grandmother passed

I'm pretty sure the house is still there, but when someone took the windchimes down

I stopped driving by to check 




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