Write me a sonnet with the wind in it, please.
- Jeremy

Because we both heard separately the bark
of the hungry storm last night- he there, me here-
the wind tossing itself through the dark
between us, he wrote and asked.
So wind, appear,
I say, because he wants you. Flap and nip
and yowl, Chinook, Samoon, Diablo.
Today your sizzling breath, your deadly flip
of freezing squalls tomorrow.
As you blow
through flutes, blow through these words. Let me draw
you in and out, be near, be quiet, be our slow
breath, be us, be nothing but the bright ah!
you are. We want your presence, though we fear it.

In the end, just these rags. And breath and spirit.