To the Wind

I once
met a girl
who, like the breeze
she came in on,
was fresh,
gentle,
needed.

We ate sandwiches
and mused over travels,
over music,
over books –
each word now a gust,
each sentence now a gale.

And when we finally finished –
an open ocean starboard,
an open ocean port,
we made plans for the following week.

But the wind stops –
careless in its guise,
to pick up again.

And I am stuck,
a sail without force.

Feedback Comment #1: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/85yyuh/matrix/dw1tab1/?context=0

Feedback Comment #2: https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/85g5op/extramarital/dw1xcb3/?context=0