here is the wind

rising from nothing

no birthplace or home

a nomad

 

alas—I cry

as it gathers its breath

the world and I

wait

 

and it pushes down

from the mountain top

through canyons and valleys

sounding its warning

 

cry out—I say

tell me where you go

I see trees fall

and waters part

 

still it rushes on

scouring brick

and stone

with a secret

 

held within

until the wind and I

join and rising

going nowhere

 

going somewhere

finding nothing

finding everything

stripped down

 

laid open

raw—

elemental

 

Pamela Olson, 2/17/12

 

For One Single Impression’s

prompt, “elemental”

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