Always the Wind

The wind;        
always the wind,        
       
And just when you notice it,        
you get that extra burst of freshness      
that flourishes concentrically,      
       
it always gives,      
I love that about the wind,      
       
And the Emerald Green        
across the street,        
It starts to dance        
with its little leaves,        
       
Lines of force on compass needles,        
moving around on wires        
in counterclockwise eccentricity,      
an aide to magnetize memory,      
        
Wires on cylinders        
that immediately relate,      
something dynamic, indistinguishable        
from ordinary dramatics,      
they all join in with the wind.      
       
And then when I’m sleeping      
and tightly tucked in,        
those little green leaves,        
they'll dance all night.      
       
I should never lose touch with the wind.
        
I go outside to think,      
I forget to do that sometimes,  
the wind always reminds me;        
always the wind.