On Hearing the Wind in March

The fierce March wind how it does blow

Its hand shakes the glass of windows

Reminding those that dwell inside

That it is powerful and full of might

I am one of those who dwell

One who listens to the roar of an unseen lion

One who sits in fear of the might of this beast

This monster that can steal in seconds

The things that took years to build

I am envious of the wind

I yearn to have this vestige of power

To be mighty and respected

Even though my face is only seen

As imprint on waves of grass