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Poem
There’s a whisper in the air that tells me something sweet
The breath of which moves the vibrant colors of leaves on the tree
Moves the foliage with a rustle in an attempt to please,
To appease my senses
Five senses
Sensitive to emotion 

There’s a voice in the atmosphere calling my name.
The leaves rustle,
My heart breaks,
I told you.

I thought I told you,
But I told the wind.
The wind always listens,
It’s a shame it just can’t understand.
You.
You might hear but you don’t listen,
Don’t try to comprehend.
It’s cold.
The moving air will do that to you.

So cold, I might freeze.
This wind blows a chill through my soul
That will not melt
Melt away by the heat of your touch.
This cold will reside.

Last time I talked it was to the wind.
I told it my soul but it blew my thoughts away.
Blew the thoughts out of my head and into your direction 
Far away from me,
Unfortunately so, so far away
From you.

What did you think?  Did you hear, did you listen;
Can’t you understand?
This heartbreak is a pain.
It’s not killing me
I’m already dead. 

Every color every leaf every cloud blown by the wind 
Through the air across space and time 
Has a meaning 
A purpose
It’s driven.

Each leaf’s a message, 
Its color a unique code to expose,
Or ignore,
But blown by the wind.

The wind the wind,
Blown by the wind.

Sometimes I wish I could be blown over by a gust of wind, 
My friend,
My listener,
To whom I can confide;
Transporter of messages and things to say,
To you,
Of all people.
The declaration of life in the dying color of plants is a symbol of my heartbreak.
Decay.
The green decays with the warmth of my heart, my flesh, my bones;
The boughs on the trees are about to break.
In the Autumn
The wind blows them so hard 
They might crack.
The prevailing surge of air moves the trees,
Moves my body,
Moves me.
Do you hear it?
Can you feel it?
How can you understand?

Can you save me? Save me.
Save me from this place,
This time,
This terror.
Pick me up in the wind and blow me like a leaf
Through your mind,
Into your heart
To stay
Where the wind blows no more
And leaves cannot decay.
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