Daydreams
The leaves are gone.
This place is now barren.
The gusts blow through unencumbered.
No bodies to block the winds. I sit alone on a ridge. Taking in the breadth of the land.
The dense air carries such rich fragrances. With which the native winds lift my heavy brow.
From worried contemplation, I often find no respite. But as my brow lifts, my eyes begin to fall.
The weighted air has brought me back to life.
Only to find my peace in the dreams of the day.