Nameless shades of gray clouds scud across the sky. Herded by a soft wind embracing my cheeks and breathing softly through the wisps of my hair.
The wind is a warm zephyr of pale green. It promises a spring rain. If only I could enfold myself and go with this breeze to places I can't be seen.
Places where my heart doesn't break from seeing the savagery and desolation of the young people whose lives I cherish. The breeze is warm and moist like a lover's breath flowing around your neck
A Baby Ruth candy wrapper rise from the caliche and tries to learn to fly. Sweetness has stained the inside. I want to go with it. Fluttering across Texas.
There are more names than I can recall being whispered by this breeze. Invitations or incantations being sung inside my head.
The joy and honesty left by the breeze's caress will sustain my efforts. I smile at the breeze. It is not a dying time.