In Flirtation with the Wind

Confronted
by a blustery wind
I feel my smallness
in the universe,


Engulfed
in studied concentration
I lean
against
the weathered porch rail
to consider the horizon

but the wind
will have none of it.
In a mood to play,
it whistles past me

like a teenage boy
exuberant with new energy,
then
doubles back again
and ruffles my hair
with cool fingers.

The trees
are watching me.

They are well aware
of this playful breeze.
They have felt its fingers
in their hair.

They look at me
with sympathy,
as if they already know

something

that I
have yet to learn.

2 thoughts on “In Flirtation with the Wind

  1. F. G. M.

    I’m visiting your blog once more and I’ve just read again this beautiful poem… “flirtation” what a beautiful and funny word. We use “flirt” in French, but not “flirtation”… I think I’m “in flirtation” with words 🙂 I love the way you write about trees…
    “The trees
    are watching me.

    They are well aware
    of this playful breeze.
    They have felt its fingers
    in their hair.

    They look at me
    with sympathy,
    as if they already know

    something

    that I
    have yet to learn.”

    Les arbres
    m’observent

    Ils sont bien conscient
    de la brise taquine.
    Ils ont senti ses doigts
    dans leur cheveux.

    Ils me regardent
    avec gentillesse
    comme s’ils connaissaient

    ce que j’ai encore
    à apprendre.

    Sarah, c’est merveilleux et VRAI – yes, wonderful and true!

  2. Dear Frédéric,

    Thank you so very much. You make a cloudy day bright!

    Your visit and your translation bring joy to these pages.

    Isn’t it funny how words ‘get into our heads’!
    I guess I have taken the word ‘flirtation’ for granted.
    To me it means light and fun…like a spring breeze.
    I suppose it really means ‘trifling’ which is not such
    a good thing, but I don’t think of it in that context.

    Thank you once again!

    Sarah

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