This Wind Will Sweep the Branches Clean

This wind will sweep the branches clean of leaves,
and in that hurly-burly I
am something like a tree.
Who does not have leaves to shake?
Would not feel that strenuous comb
pulled through her hair
and shout a-hilltop,
For the winter I am free!
These planetary stirrings are our saving
every season; are the reason
we can make ourselves anew,
keeping what we are
and how we grew,
and sending all the rest to fill the sky.

October 31 2009