Poems & Essays

29 Jun

The Wind is Simply Air in Motion

General/Column No Response

It seems you’ve stopped napping
this spring. And as things change quickly,
your counterclockwise gusts bend us
more than we’d like. You shake the limbs
of budding trees, wear trenches through
the mulberries, toss basketballs in the yard.
We send others to retrieve them, to
sweep up your mess. You always flow away
from pressure. Remember when you wrenched
the door off the playset, and we made art
out of it. Sometimes, you settle yourself
in the orange and deep blue of sundown,
and I read out loud. It feels like I’m rocking
you to sleep. Breathe softly. You never change
what you are, you just react to what you feel
around you. Past midnight, you’ll wake and
rattle the floorboards again.

Matthew Miller teaches social studies, swings tennis rackets, and writes poetry – all hoping to create a home. He lives beside a dilapidating apple orchard in Indiana, and tries to shape the dead trees into playhouses for his four boys. His poetry has been published in The Flying Island, PAN-O-PLY and Your Daily Poem.

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