My Awnry Friend

I remember the first time I thought I had seen her…

Passed it off as my mind playing games…

It was not possible for a woman or person…

To play with leaves and branches that way…

She seemed to put her lips together…

And the leaves would spin and dance…

As our eyes crossed she vanished…

Be form my eyes…

The following day with my cup in hand…

I stood in the same spot and waited…

My cup was all but empty…

I turned to walk away…

As I did I felt a gush of wind at my back…

Turning back there she was…

Her feet were not on the ground…

She put her lips together and blew me a kiss…

The leaves followed and I was almost covered…

She had a smile upon her face…

Her eyes were a shade of green…

I was twenty that first year I saw her…

That was fifty years ago, she hasn’t changed a bit…

Every time I feel or see something moving in the wind…

I look and find her there with her lips together…

On one occasion, she allowed me to see…

Her hair was salt and pepper like mine…

As I became almost buried by leaves…

My grandmother once said the wind was being awnry…

As the leaves danced and spun in the breeze…

I was maybe five that Autumn…

She was my awnry friend who could make me smile..

Even when I wanted to cry…

Every Autumn I look for my awnry friend…

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