February 29, 2008
By Kaylynn Newhard, Russellville, AR

the tress sway in the wind
and i sit in dead silence
preoccupied by its unheard cries
the way it whispers to me
all the dreams i once held
but they are whisked away
like the fallen leaves and rain drops
wandering aimlessly through this town
a mind all their own
with no purpose be to sway
dance to the rythmn of the wind
with the moons shinning light
as thier spotlight
beat after beat
they spin and twirl
who knew that wind
had such a way with words
so dance
spread new wings and fly
make a shadow in my moonlight
to keep me company
so that when the wind stops
i too have someone to fall on.

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