by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Wind
She is the freest
of all women,
the wind.
The sound she plays
through the pinion trees
is a loud, sweeping sound,
like a great, spiny broom
cleaning away from the earth
things unnecessary.
Invisible,
yet she stirs the winter skies
to bring deep canyon snows today ̶
and then tomorrow
life-giving thunderstorms.
She makes us ask,
what is necessary?
What do we need
on our temporary trek
across the earth? Our suitcase in hand?
What is it we really want?
Only life from the wind.
fourwindowspress 
beautiful
Thank you. Love Ethel
Perhaps surrender is the sole true victory?
Perhaps. Love Ethel
🙂
Really nice, Ethel.
The wind here today is wild!!
Thank you. Ethel