By Annette Marie Hyder

tonight
the wind tells secrets to the trees
teaches all the thirsty leaves
tossing black silver and green

that tempest can carry
canting truths, toss branches high
in rush crushed rue
then leave them still, serene
in the middle of the eye
of the storm

where does grace come from?
where does bending blend
to strength and the ability to weather
thunderous calamity?

tonight
a cat with fur on end
will come in from the wind
knowing in its catty ways
that the storm is not for him

and better sieged with lapping tongue
to saucer dipped
than drops of rain on skin
of nose or whiskers fierce

will sit on sill and watch
the arboreal trembling
now with not one hair awry