A painting of flowers in a strong breeze


David Bar-Tzur

Restless, the wind conducts me on a fling,

Evidence is left on porches.

A curious draft leafs through a book left open,

People's gardens flit in and out of view.

My fast friend has turned stormy now.

My heart joins them as I meet these souls head-on.

The wind dies, leaving me inspired.
I am at large, yet quite at home.


1. Image: Wind by Hillary Riggs.