If You Are The Wind


If you are the wind
then I am stretching
myself across you,
with you
arms open, like sails.
If you are the wind
then I am whispers, lost,
coalescing, transforming into one
quiet rush. Silence.
If you are the wind
then I am the soaring bird
wings beating, heart
pumping, matching stroke
for gust.
If you are the wind
than I am the dandelion seed, twisting
spinning, caught
in your embrace
traveling miles, seeing a sky
of which I’d never dreamed.

But you are not the wind.
And I am standing on the edge
of a hill, watching the snowflakes
swirl around me,
my face pink
and cold. TC mark

This poem appears in Marisa Donnelly’s book, Somewhere on a Highway, available here.

Marisa Donnelly

Marisa is a writer, poet, & editor. She is the author of Somewhere On A Highway, a poetry collection on self-discovery, growth, love, loss and the challenges of becoming.

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