The wind picks up

The wind picks up

So much more than leaves

Pollen and dust

Every hushed whisper is

Tossed high into the air

Forming new chains

Of thought rarely connected

Origami clouds scud

Over a backlit sky

A deep

Drowning pool

Rippling with excitement

Tiny particles dance

As thick as thieves

Waiting for the dust to settle

Before taking flight

Nothing is still

Inertia is relative

Time changes everything

Gravity is more fun than

A serious word

Carried in waves

By a capricious wind

Solar power is more

Than a sunbeam

With a clear focus.