Wind

Dan Jira – 2/14/17

It was August the first time I walked this path,

I was nothing more than a new student who was lost

I was wandering around campus,

And here, in the back, away from everybody,

I found this strip of tarmac,

Carved out of the surrounding fields.

That first night, out on the path,

As I stopped to admire the windmills,

I felt it.

I felt the wind for the first time in forever.

The wind I used to feel, on a calm day on the lake.

Gentle, reassuring, and carrying the sweet scent of summer.

Although I had felt this wind earlier that month,

This time it was different.

This time it also carried a new scent. Freedom.

I have since walked that path

Almost every night that I have been here,

And I still feel it.

Now it is February, and its different again.

This time, I do not walk the path alone,

This time I walked the path with you for the first time.

Although I didn’t know you for that first stroll,

A familiar feeling blew upon my face.

This time stinging my nose, and cheeks.

But it still felt the same.

As we hold hands, and walk into the night,

The wind still blows.