The Same Wind (Hey Aeolus) in the brancheslast year’s leaves hangnot many the rest the wind blew from the trees it moves through the twigsloosening whatever clingsleaf by leafuntil the branches are free then it touches my facewithout a handacross my cheeks and forehead i close my eyesas if it had borrowed your handsit knows my face like an aeolian harpits soft strings played by the windi listen…