Wind

Looking up

I see the bare branches

Of oak and maple and shagbark

Tossed about on a March morning

In the crashing waves of air

That recede deep into the woods,

Sucking leaves and branches

In their undertoe

This is the danger

Of hellfire let loose

On a rooted life

Looking down,

There is no movement,

No indication of

The fury bending

These trees

Almost to breaking

The woods are deep

Beyond them

A hill and more trees

Bear the brunt

We have had

Nights like this 

Before

We know

The sun will come round

To soothe the troubled air.

The birds will sing,

And we will feed them.

In solidarity with Ukraine