Five by Five

Is there any wind

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I feel it on my skin - a cool tongue

Gentle with its secrets;

I hear it in the trees - the engine

For their vocal box - in the cry of the gulls

Carried on its back to my ears;

I see it on the blades of grass, latticed with light

And shifting shadow - born-again fingers of the earth

Wiggling in the august afternoon;

I taste it in my lungs, for when I breath

I am filled, my lungs ballooned - a meter of calm

Ever-sought;

I smell it (maybe) alone - homey and fresh, like brisk memory - And in the scents it shares:

Gravel, forest,

Grave, friend

And foe, houses

And half-eaten lunches,

Hope and fear and solitude

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It doesn’t matter much

If there is any wind

I am happy here

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https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9ah6ev/the_butterfly_devourer/

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/9adfha/burning_books/

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