Wind

Not separate from the wind. Wind touches every part
Of this tight drum of skin containing me. Feel it now.
Not standing alone. My brow, my cheek, my hand, all
Touched by this wind. Blowing today, blowing just for me.
Coaxing me to hear: “NOT apart. Not separate.
Part of everything.” Blowing around, and through,
Wind does what it does. Leaves shake, in
Frantic flurries. I sit, eyes closed, and feel.
Touched and blown, tossed and swayed.