The wind whispered in the trees
because ultimately, it was too taxing to shout
or even speak at room volume
which, supposedly, was somewhere between the perch of a bird
and whir of a tornado (how stupid that was, for the maximum volume to be itself).
The wind was an energy conservative fellow
never willing to force more than its quota of leaves to fall
or shake more than a few birds out of their nests
watching eggs crack on the earth
splatter the yolks, soil the ground
which is ok.
It was not the wind’s job to clean up.
But the wind did not lie completely motionless
for on occasion it screamed to the earth in fury
in desperation
that it might acquire a tangible body
and maybe then, life might not be so lethargic.
Such moments were not frequent
for the wind knew that longing and wishing
were the most exhausting of them all.
Lucy Zhang 