Rustle Rustle

It's the wind in the air

From where I listen

From where I stare

Inside a stand of trees

To the ebb and flow of rustle, rustle.

The overcast day

Holds the shadows at bay

Except my own

Which is my work

My chosen way

My things to do and touch

To change to act do much

It's time to leave

It's time I go

To the ebb and flow of hustle hustle