Poem: The Jaunty Wind

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Move, like the leaves that
blow in the wind,
so jauntily and free.

There will always
be turbulences, storms and
loud whistles — until
everything settles again.
The stroking of
the wind becomes gentle.

And when it‘s quiet again,
listen; what does
the gentle breeze want
to tell you?

© Catherine Flores

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Poem: The Jaunty Wind | Ecency