Ode to the Wind

When I awake for the second time
the window tremors at the slightest 
touch of the wind. I notice it never falters
despite moving along each season.

It hoists piles of leaves in suburban yards
and scatters them across, painting meticulous murals.
It drags the dense weight of snow, 
never catching frostbite along the way. 
It spreads pollen alongside the bees,
dispersing whiffs freshly cut grass. 
It combats the humidity and the sun
maybe this year it will win. 

Even though the wind disrupts 
my sleep. I remind myself;
it only wants a piece of recognition.