Listen! Everywhere
there is wind.
You hear it
in the slow rustle
of leaf upon leaf,
the creak of doors
slyly sliding shut,
or quick with a bang!
The wind moves
like a sharp howl
to sunrise,
or short yap
at the moon.

If you listen
hard enough
to the space
between sound
you can hear
another voice—
the whoosh!
that is left
when wind
whistles by,
the thwack!
in the stomach,
the mouth an o
stretched toward tomorrow.