The Wind

The wind whistles,

Weaving through the trees,

Whispering,

Singing.

It’s melody soft and high,

Soothing my every bone.

As soothing as it is,

It’s as haunting as it can be.

It tells me of the centuries,

Of the good and bad times.

Always there,

To either comfort or frighten.

Always there,

For decades and centuries.

Always there,

For better or for worse.