Poetry

Last night I could have sworn that I heard your name
in a song that the wind was singing
as past me in a cool breeze it came
and some of the branches of the trees were swinging
 
and it was as if it was softly whispering at times
of happy things, of other different climes
about the places where it had gone
and the wind blew on and on
and kept on blowing right into the new morn