ZEPHYR

I am the breath of teardrops drying A whisper coaxed awak’ning on rippled pond Shadows creeping amid the grey stones Concealing both prey and predator A faint kiss to lift the butterflies aloft Caress the wafting scent of budding roses A shiver on the sweaty back of toil A riffling of leaves still wet at dawn A gladdened moment dancing with a feather The dusty face of tumbleweeds at play I am the humming voice of towering pines That eerie whine amid the canyon stones I am a sound e’er present in the silence A gentle hint that life is everywhere