The Wind It whispers your name in my ear, its weary, bashful gaze fixed on the ground. Sometimes, from the dust-laden corners of its eyes, a tear slips free. For so long, it has promised me your scent, yet returns empty-handed from its distant journey. I soothe it with my gaze; it glides softly over my face and moves on— this cold winter wind. Quietly, I wrap my thin blanket of loneliness around myself and lose myself in the frozen memories buried deep in my mind. Perhaps there, you’ll come to see me. Perhaps the warmth of your embrace will melt the deadly chill in my soul. And I, the loneliest man of this winter night, will watch yet another dawn arrive.