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Wind

 The mechanical instance of wind, freighted for daily experience. Simply temperature gradients charging the atmosphere with utter balancing and crisscross virtue. Leaves sail, snow drifts, clouds portend. The gods, when not imaginary, seem imaginary because carrying portents. The wind has made tears, some your own, some for others. Do you remember those who died on other days, lost in the wind? They may still remember bracing flags describing specific wind as illustrative loss fit for sailing away. Away in time while space remains. You remember those that blew away, and space is never same. Your next string of gods, however, will be your best.


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