Traveling Wind

A voice traveling through the mountain wind
Falling onto the frozen lake and skidding down an icy slope,
Rustling through the forest trees and boomeranging off the snow
Descending into an arcane cave and out into a silver field,
Across the slippery road holding onto a passing car
Eating through every obstacle, changing its transparent shape,
Down into the drainpipes and crashing out into the river
Picked up in a scoop and spat forward with a rush,
Sliding up your wall like a snake
Creeping between the cracks in your window pane,
Quietening down, merging with the warmth
Slowly gliding across your delicate face,
A voice traveling through the open wind
To kiss and tell you how much I love you.

By B. L. Crisp


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