I am the wind,

wanderer of land,

shaker of salt,

taster of air,

stroker of fur and feathers.

They build walls to block my path,

I moan when I bump my head,

so am forced into furrows and streets,

and slaved to move machines and turn turbines.

I wish I could have one night off

so I could sleep under the stars

and feel the fur and the feathers

stroke me.