Wind

by Maddie DePuy

Your rip through

you whisper. 

You come as soft as…

I can’t think,

well maybe this is it:

yes

you’re the texture of warm wind

on a cold night 

and you rush

and then you are harsh

and then you are a breeze again 

and you are there on thin spring nights 

and on thick winter mornings 

you are endless atmosphere.