An Every-Night Cinderella, Eric Bachman and Singleton 2007

I'm not alone...

As long as the wind
will talk to me,
I hear your voice

I'm listening...

The wind always
has a story to tell....

She whispers
in the night,
whipporwhills
to the moon,
frolicks in the sun

But she listens,
as she gales,
tumbling litter
winter leaves
baby butterflies
waves
crashing

I hear the sounds
of her bright voice
echo; alive

Sometimes I hear her
moan--gasp--cry
sometimes
laugh--lilt--whisper

In the night,
there are secrets
everywhere
and she knows
all of them.

But if one knows
to listen well
to her breathy voice
and feel her caress
and her soft kisses
on their face
nothing
will remain hidden

Nothing
will stop her
from becoming one,
from becoming a kite
of stardust and light;
blue and purple
and red and white
flying from the palm
of her invisible hand

And then she'll do
what the wind
always does,
she'll unravel
the kite string
one loop
one inch
one beer
one line
at a time
and set it free
a new constellation

One more brand new
Cinderella
dancing
in her midnight sky.