Poem: Windy

 Windy

 

sighs sift the boughs,

swirl to soften willows,

lull fronds.

 

as always,

air purls as if trees were staves, 

the glade a stanza,

leaves clefs.

 

the sky a vase of faint violins,

whispery 

with cadenzas.

 

the forest remembers and rephrases, 

fugues and arias, 

all day,

until amethyst 

and crepuscular,

a coda of moon.

========================

8/3/24