The Wind

• Photographer
  Richard Petronio

Sometimes love appears briefly in reflections as the wind moves them across your vision. The Wind She appeared to me three times in the wind. Unexpected. The wind was warm Upon my face. There was no storm. It was a gentle wind. The wind brought color; It washed away the past And took away the sadness in my eyes. The wind left as quickly as it came; The trees never stopped bending. Searching, I found her three times; I lost her as many. Where has the wind taken her? Will the sadness in my eyes return? She appeared to me three times in the wind, Unexpected. rj petronio, 2002