“Wind,” New Era, Aug. 1995, 26
Wind
In exhilaration I raise my face
to the heavens,
To feel the wind
gushing against my cheeks.
I spread my arms and close my eyes,
Willing the wind to carry me off.
It whips my hair across my face,
mocking my restrained life
While it is boisterous and free.
Running in circles, I play its game,
Allowing it to laugh at me.
But I laugh back,
A carefree laugh
I haven’t heard for a while.
The wind has given me
a fraction of its magic,
To give me a taste
of true freedom.
It is enough.
Apples by Aaron Schreiber
Golden Frogs by Aaron Schreiber