It is a listening wind

It is a listening wind

Bending an ear

Creaking an old porch seat

Once a place of secrets

And heartbreak

A first kiss

Tears at parting

Waiting for morning

To welcome a sunrise

Swinging alone

Frayed and rusted

A chariot of memories

Caught in the midst

A cache of whispers

Bundled together

In need of interpretation

A meaningful epitaph

For the right to resist

The drift

In thrall to a mistral

The sound of a city

At ease

With enchantment

As much as torment

Played as a soundtrack

Background noise

At the heart of a day

To say nothing

Stay silent

Is as impossible

As indefinite.

A listening wind

Turns a dispassionate ear

To every sound

We have ever made

Picking it up

So easily

Lightly tossed

Roughly possessed

Carrying it

So very far away

Until it returns

In thrall to the mistral