 
#17 (I'll try for an extra to make up for yesterday later) 
"He also said, 'I am the vine. I am the door.' Was he really a vine, a door?" 
  -Lady Jane Grey 
  In and of itself the wind is nothing—
 an invisible hem through a lawn
 rich with forsythia—always the first 
 to come. But whose hem? It's wracked with vine; it
 catches in the sky-door's jamb. Then the sun.
  
 In and of itself the wind is nothing—
 
   
    
    
    
        Published on April 17, 2010 05:51