The wind feels like home.
It pushes and pulls,
but softly—a caress.
I’ll give it my stress,
my worries,
my sadness,
my loneliness.
Let the wind pull it,
gently,
from my open hand.
I chose this solitude,
because even with a partner,
I was alone.
More alone than I feel now.
But then,
it wasn’t my choice.
Now, it is me,
the wind,
and an open palm.
The wind can take away
the heavy things today,
so the next thing can land
right in my open hand.