the wind is invisible,
it does not want to know;
already it has come
and is leaving again
heave a sigh,
the wind
will not resolve this problem
touch the frozen tree
(the wind is careful as a locksmith)
the wind has come and gone
and he will come again like a blind man
tapping his cane
a blind man tapping his cane
arriving to pick up his load
of pollen or birds
his bagful of whistles and scents
(his catcalls)
the blind man
(his currency of leaves)
and lock them up in a secret place
where no one has ever heard
or seen from
the wind
again
- Norbert Ruebsaat © 1979