wants to make
the world wobble
and hear it squirm
from where
I sit, with
whistles, whooshing
sounds resonating
and exhibit an essence
like magic
against my face,
from warm to cold
then retire again
a seasonal change
capturing
my attention.
It wishes me to chew
into its needs,
like a mouthful
of peanuts
tasting, scent
teasing
until I am
complete, a
mirror
of the wind.
© Richard L. Provencher
Published May 2010
Issue V111, Volume 11
Connotation Press
