Hers is the breeze that whispers to the trees,
sieving the sunlight through the green leaves.
Hers is the breeze that whispers to the light,
calling softly beyond the approaching twilight.
I know, you’ve told me,
the sunlight will falter,
I know the breeze fades away.
I know, you’ve told me,
the tree leaves will fall,
We know twilight turns darkness to day.
https://andrewwhalanpoet.substack.com/p/the-breeze-it-is-she?sd=pf
