The Wind

…Free as a bird,
the wind splits the air,
escaping in a rapid way
the arms of the trees,
laughing he shrieks
on the garret of the attic.

his chilly breath
writes with wings
warm words
evaporating away
in the haze.

frolic it plays through the branches
as a young dog and jumps
after the fallen leaves.

Windless
it waits sometimes on a breeze
that will free him
out of the lee of his cage…

© Rudi J.P. Lejaeghere
10/05/2015