I wish I could bottle,
package, and sell the wind
rustling, shimmering
in my yard this morning.

But that would be a waste.
You have your own right now.
Step outside.  Peep out doors.
Take a whiff. Ride the air.

If leaves cannot be found,
Give the sky your greatest
Shh. Your teeth can be leaves.
Breath is the wind inside.

-Photo by Sean Foster on Unsplash