The breeze brings me the sound

Of Prince John in the woods.

That same breeze keeps me from him.

It carries my words behind me and far away

Bringing them to someone who doesn’t care.

Wait for the stillness-

The space between wind’s breath,

To get a word in edgewise

To be carried aloft to the woods.

The words leave my lips

Get halfway there

And are returned to me…..

Unanswered.

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