A Sudden Gust
April 26 2007


I feel small
in the stillness of morning
under high freshly-rinsed skies
— as soft as well-worn denim;
as hard as a porcelain bowl, up-ended,
glazed blue inside.
Which would ring true, struck just so;
a pure clear note.

Then wind, a sudden gust
from nowhere,
rustles the leaves and ripples the lake,
strong enough to lean all my weight against it
— arms out-stretched,
how it feels to fly.

In an instant, transparent air transformed
to a solid wall,
as substantial as bricks and mortar.
As if the earth had absent-mindedly shrugged,
unleashing unimagined forces;
breaking morning
and plucking me up
— as lightly as a speck of dust.