Of the Wind
It’s an early autumn wind. It ushered summer out, but fall is not yet here. We are stuck between the in-between seasons. Green leaves stick tightly to branches that bend low over green grass. Nothing is giving in to decline. Not yet. You get a sense that the air is warm but the wind overpowers it. At the ocean, you can stand and face the water and wind, and eventually the cold wind will begin to feel warm. My brother taught me that. Not so with a Midwestern pre-autumn wind. It’s cold. You worry about the winter wind. You wonder where the wind goes from here. You think about eternity. It’s the kind of wind that will blow clean your house and your soul. If only you open your windows.
© Jill Kiesow