There's a rumor of rain in the air
The trees are whispering loudly to each other about the coming news high above the street lamps
The wind is reminding this tame land
That it has wild cousins
And long ago came from the same wild stock
While the people are sleeping, or go about their business inside
Unaware, like middle aged folk,
The houses want to lean forward, like old people with a silent, expectant twinkle in their eyes.
It's a quiet night, but the windchimes hint at magic
Once there was a girl with no mother, who was born out of her father's head.
She was intimate with the play of air across her cheeks
And though she was kept
And had the trappings of civility
Storms called her outside.
She raised her face to the sky
She flung her arms out feeling the wind
She held her body still, mouth open, eyes wide, breathing
Called, she would slip from her house in the night without a thought
She knows what it feels like to run in the dark, arms out wide flying through the air
barefeet slapping on the sidewalk.
A woman steps out of her car surprised
Something in the air reminds her of something long ago
She pauses, one half of her face tilted toward the sky, straining to hear.