the wind here paces to and fro
tangling and shifting fibers close by
calmingly constant and lightly muffled
forever chasing the breeze when it fades

the ground rustling beneath
lifting itself before falling again
an echo of steady marching
smelling softly of a long day

periodically twitching,
just not quite tectonically
but momentarily awoken from a dream
remembering about the girl he is holding