Pause

Pause

I have seen days when the wind weighs

so heavy on trees, they bend close

to breaking. A limb with the greenest leaves

or weakened by age would have to give in.

The trunk may have to learn a new angle

sunward. What is less apparent is the path

the wind must make. It has to unravel,

splitting itself into countless strands

to navigate between each leaf, each branch.

We take turns being one or the other.

-o-

this poem is for Margie

Filed under: poetry