i like the breeze.

who doesn't? 

the way it ruffles the leaves,

the sound it makes as they rustle.

what is that sound, anyway?

leaves touching

one another? i like the way tall trees

sway in the breeze. 

it's sexy, isn't it? gently, 

then less gently as the wind picks up.

maybe that’s just me

being me.

i like the way a breeze feels on a hot day.

who doesn’t? 

but sometimes

it's a hot wind on a hot day. that's no fun.

i like the various sounds

a breeze makes, not just the ruffling-rustling,

but the whooshes and roars

and even moans, it can be frightening, or heartening.

i remember flying a kite.

i haven’t flown a kite

since i was a kid. it takes a breeze,

a kite, a tail, some kite-string. all i have is a breeze. 

i’m looking at the breeze-blown trees through the window.

i like the way it makes the leaves dance silently. 

that's pretty cool. 

there aren't a lot of leaves in my neighborhood, but some.

i remember in old movies, 

mostly black and white,

shots of windblown, deserted, dusty streets,

with a tumbling tumbleweed. i liked that feeling. 

or an urban landscape with a page of newspaper

blowing down the street, 

again, indicating emptiness, loneliness.

generally, it's a sad feeling. a lot depends on the music. 

i really do like breezes. 

i like ocean breezes and forest breezes

and urban breezes.

life is a breeze. i mean, sometimes. 

at the moment the breeze has died down.

maybe i'm finished 

thinking about breezes. 

i think i am.