Thoughts

Thoughts
perhaps are closest to the wind
Whether the seasons like them or not
they are here sometimes
but don't have to be here
They are wandering all over
do not appear to attach to anything
but they circulate back
just in time to remind you that they are still here sometimes
They blend well with rain or snow
not enough to stop either
but just enough to make either dancing
singing or flying
enough to disturb or make either poetic
transient enough to be noticed
the dynamics as well as the static swoosh
There is no start
there is no finish
only through
and through
but apears randomly