The Suffering Wind

First dust rustles and dances;
a current of brown glinting stars
shaking anticipated and fated to fly.

Pines yellowed, anchored, pick up and hustle too as dust passes whispering beats, sultry, rhythmic notes.

This conductor of sway is a suffering wind; relentless currents, chaotic blows, never ending, never judging, merciless force.

Structures are built by choice in the path of the wind.  Dusty leaves blown by barely revealed and painted eves worn, withered, and sacraficed.

But breeze begets gust begets gale begets torrents that lift and destroy these proctections, these safeties.  Even our foundations are cracked and potted promises.

The winds always subside though and Courage constructs new replacements, steeled buildings, hopeful shiny dwellings.