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By John I. Blair

Windís blast
    Bends the trees and
       Sends leaves flying. It
          Fills my
             Lungs, makes me
                Drunk with the
                   Power of the air
                      Rushing past and
                   Proud that I can
                   Stand against it.
                      When I was
                   Young I
                Lived where
           Wind was such an
      Element of
    Life that every
Tree leaned north.
    Wind was part of my
       Identity, part of what it
          Meant to be from there.
                   Now as I grow
                   Old, I should want to
                      Shelter from the
                      Cold and
                         Avoid the
                         Wind. But that would
                Betray my
             Self, for I am like the
                Trees of my
                      Childhood; the
                         Wind has
                            Shaped me.

© 2/21/2002John I. Blair

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