Stanley Pelter

broken sky

clouds shape then disappear

Like Wind

 

Like Wind. Like Wind. Like relaxed glances make of clouds, trees, waves. Like it is soft, hard, even brittle. Like cold. Like such warmth of it. Like friend. Like enemy. Like it makes no difference. Like we need both. Like it cares if we like or do not like. Like I do not know Wind is for only what it is. Like for all that, it does seem there is interchange. We meet. There is connection. We come together. There is closeness, a particular fix. Before, a precise result is known only imprecisely. It is this or that, lightest of feather touches. Like maybe unavoidable. Like inevitable, even.

 

a  float of beached foam

it spreads here before there

Like Wind

 

when we meet there is a ricochet, a particular frisson like i push against a thin barrier of U with your redder colder nose hair ravaged into alternatives skin crimpling in response to rushes of wind blown sand like when we interweave like not even confined to exteriors because any open window or door is enough to stimulate a coming together of forces into more subtle intimacies as i more solid absolve disturbances into something more like insubstantial, whereas U are visible only by effects solids differently resolving a multiplicity of like alternatives like ebb like flow like a silent jangle of movements like i am like inside U                  Like a Wind.

 

sun moon sky light dark

         tie together U with i

              like a wind  

 

 

 

 

 

like a wind