Breeze

The breeze carries the

Warm promises of

Lives lived, or

Love, of warm, of heart.

It bears upon its wings

The sullen furtive gaze

Of the missed wish the

Lost gift the ache.

In its heart and its ache

And the long drawn out

Bake of a roaming,

A wandering will.

There shall be some still,

Some calm, some sweet

Fill of the luscious, the

Rich, the rare.

I can see it, you and I

In the sweep of the sky

Where we soar, where we

Rest, where we till.