No one in sight but the wind
at the back of the field
where the woods begins
where the wind bursts over the hill
the wind like a wraith
with its blade and cloak
bending the goldenrod bones
the tall white wind
into the trees with a shout
dropping its burden of ice
heaped on the armored ground
at the back of the field
with no one in sight
but the tall white furious wind
where the woods begins
I am never alone.
