May Wind

May Wind

She plays
Each tree
Each branch
Each blade of grass
Each seedhead
Each flower stem, each bud
Higher, lower
Faster, slower
Impetuous bowman
Careless oboe

Each tree
Each branch
Each leaf
Each little flower, each blade of grass
raises its singular voice.

A sough, a sigh
A rustle, a whoosh
A creak, a groan, a crackle,
A whisper, a whish,
a crash, a whistle, a cry

Soloists
Together
They call
“A storm is coming.”