Wind 

Late in the afternoon the sun revealed an 

array of plastic ribbons hovering 6 ft high from

sticks spread evenly across the bright green 

acre, displaying the path of the breeze that

precedes dusk - in the way magnetic fields

are mapped with iron filings on paper.

There is this Japanese drawing which never

fails to touch me; it visualizes wind in the 

fluttering long sleeves  of a lady's robe.

Perhaps aware of my gratefulness for what a

brush once seized in ink, a host of Shinto gods 

allowed me to witness their passing by.