The pilot and the dust.

The gondolier of wind
wispers like a crazed man, sweeping the streets with waving branches
A blowing breath or angry kiss

A reminder of his strength and confidence

Like little flowers hiding in the grass, thrown
left and right to sway
Chatter like children
Upon This very day

The air accompanied by a loud wirling sound
As dust becomes
the pilot , high above
the ground

No peace or rest in silence, an uneasy feeling braces the heart

And just as the wind tells a story of hardship
Crazed and angry 
In trust, likely to be carried further

The pilot and the dust.

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