The wind hears many secrets

The wind hears many secrets
   As he blows at his election.
Only a hearer at best –
   He mulls them over and again
But doesn’t repeat or think aloud
For there are too many to recount.

The wind also has many lovers –
   Appreciating the trees –
Caressing the flowers
   And cooling warm cheeks
But preferring to roam –
Blows away to a place unknown.

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