the wind

the wind rides the tornado’s breath
crashing and thrashing door to door
flying through
the devils child
leaving nature behind
in the wake of its honor
swing the swing of the sultan's bat
violently kissing up the dirt
in a cloud of frustrated desperation
out of the park and into the night
let it ride
angrily
without hesitation
one swing and it was gone
as the chamber played the background choir
sounds of life wandering in and out
silently coercing whispers and wishes
joyful musings to the angels in flight
take me there without warning
spinning around their fleeting paths
an echo of what once was that shall be again
dissipating slowly into the rainbow mist
ride the wind like you rode me last night
and suggest sweet nothings as loud as you can
but only the ones I can hear
and turn up the volume on the kitchen floor
so the stories will never lose their intention
when told in other lands in other dreams
when the dust settles
and the light flickers with hope


steve reiss ©2000