Sitting on a new,
abandoned concrete
slab,cool wind blowing
through my hair,
dancing with the grass.
Small arrows form,
as the grass spreads,
like whitecap on a wave.
I watch it come;
this powerful breeze-
warming my insides
with an ice cold breath.
The ice arrow tips
impale my hot face
and redden my cheeks
as the gusts pass.
Someone calls me,
as I feel the breeze
rush against my skin
again. I am lost
to the words I hear
against the wind's
enigmatic howl
echoing in my head.
The grass flattens
under their feet,
as it hadn't
under mine. I look
at the deadweight
that kills the perfect,
lively landscape,
and I, too, feel crushed..
They look at me
with the need to leave,
boiling in their cheeks.
I look at them,
calm to sit and stay
like a loyal beast,
with the perfect breeze
blowing just for me.