Sunday, October 2, 2016



I woke up dreaming of the wind
Though there was none
Perhaps the softness of it’s absence
Was the silent siren song
That made me think of you
The way the curtain hung
Anticipating
One small breath or
Sigh
To indicate the morning has begun
Perhaps the tiny leaf
Un-spun
Was why I thought of us
Awaiting gale and gust
August
Autumn
All
Are motionless
With indecisiveness
We wait for you
To carry us
On wings of fall




Sara Mathews     October 2016

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