A good time for a reblog

Alphabet City

How does the wind keep track
of the trillions of leaves it blows

the infinite tiny barbs of feather
it ruffles in flight

the colorful kites strung taut 
in their journeys, guiding youthful hands 

the dandelion dander on behalf of a wish
on its way to new-found love

the many tears on cheeks to account for,
to someday dry to whisk away

the aromas it wafts,
the melodies it lilts

the voices it fades,
this busy wind

cc: CC '22

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