Wind
© 2006 By Candice Williams

The cold wind is rushing through the trees
And whistling beneath the eves
It stirs the branches and rocks the leaves
Where does it go? I can't tell you and no one knows

Now the wind is rattling against the windowpanes
And beating against the door with many groans and strains
Its blowing tumbleweeds in my path and flattens all the grass
But where is it going With all its shudders and blowing?
I can't tell you; there's no way of knowing