Wind Pays a Visit

Wind walked through the house
at seven under rain-heavy sky;
she slipped though an east window,
in my bedroom, wandered
the dry corners of my house,
then slid out the front door
(which faces east). Or, perhaps
she made it all the way to
the southern laundry room.
I couldn't say.
She left no kiss or calling card.
Just a touch in a dream,
and a jonquil promise.