Wind Takes Care of Me The tree sheds its leaves on my deck. I sweep them off. The next morning they return. I laugh a puff of surprise. The following day the wooden planks, weathered a faithful grey, are free of the curling, brown clusters. I laugh again to know the wind slipped in during the night, and in one breath scattered the litter of leaves to the ground, perhaps for birds to gather to line and warm their nests. One afternoon I rest on the deck. A breeze comes close and knows to lift away the tightness in my chest, the frown on my forehead, and ease me into a daydream of colors lit fleetingly with the brush of sun. On the shore the wind, over the surface of the sea, winks everywhere at me to enter the waves, guides me to swim within them, my arms enthralled with theirs as they rise and fall in rhythm with my life’s breath.
Janet Krauss, who has two books of poetry published, “Borrowed Scenery,” Yuganta Press, and “Through the Trees of Autumn,” Spartina Press, has recently retired from teaching English at Fairfield University. Her mission is to help and guide Bridgeport’s young children through her teaching creative writing, leading book clubs and reading to and engaging a kindergarten class. As a poet, she co-directs the poetry program of the Black Rock Art Guild.
Amethyst Review 