It is stone still, not a movement. The leaves still
on the tree hang precariously but don’t move.

Destined to drop, they get one moment, hour,
day’s (maybe) reprieve. The wind just tuckered

out from all the huffing and puffing of the last
couple of days, whipping up the waves on the

Big Lake. All that effort. The boys played with
the wind, went with the wind as they bounced

from wave to wave and leapt into the air on their
wind surfers. The wind fought back as those boys

sought to land on the sand and reel in their giant
kites. Today, all is at rest. No wind, no waves, the

boys are back at work and the leaves hang on for a
little longer and then he hears the wind chime, looks

out and sees the birch branches begin to sway. The
wind is such a kidder, especially the west wind.