Her twigs whistle softly
Woodwinds not yet silenced
Still merry with seasonal change
Rustling leaves offer a hint of song
High notes and low ones
Orchestrated by the wind
Clever of the skies
To solicit mid-air composition
A subtle gift to my ears
Music for the heavens
And those who fly high
Above swooning branches
Melodies that dance forever
Join tiny voices of sparrows
And rouse cackling blackbirds
She gently touches her cloak
Slowly, then with vigor, she
Plunges through each chord
Mighty wind at her back
A gust arrives in D Minor
Blows her instrument awry
Her tempo changes,
Each prelude starts anew
A scorching endless song
Percussion at the ready
Clashing arms mere zest
To flute-like singing bees
That hum, dance and
Swirl to the sound
Of life in the making
Her symphony foretells
Desire, yet alas, quiet
When winter will silence her song
—Victoria Emmons, 2018