the wind is sweeping through the grass
and with it a sigh comes from the sea
a sigh from deepest blue
the remnant from a storm
shaking the pillars of the earth
the wind is sweeping through the trees
turning the leaves to fluttering gold
in spreading light of afternoon
calling the vine towards the sun
to fill the cup of yearning souls
the wind is sweeping through the grass
curling around a flower blue
raising its head towards the sky
to feel the wind's touch in each moon-filled night.
(for D.)
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