Rob Schackne #998 - Wind Leaves (redux)

Wind Leaves


I stand in a forest bumped by trees
the great sky is plainly visible

a fresh breeze begins to stir
a drop of something lands on my head

nothing above the belt, nothing red
I have understood her too easily

the trees are fooled by the forest
the forest responds to the wind

the waves shake the leaves again
nothing below the belt, nothing blue

each new breeze reacts to the storm
her breath, her songs, her poems

the leaves shake the waves again
I am suspected of losing my mind