Interlude

A humvee convoy of wind
hurtles through aspen at dawn

My wife and I tally white noise
time in the pillow against our ears

Downy leaves bent and springing
against waves of air

Twenty seconds later we wonder
if the noise already faded

and our brains in the aftermath
just hum a particle refrain

But no—each massive tree
bows and bows

Clatter of neighbor against neighbor
I can’t distinguish

in psithurism the sound of the wind
and the sound of leaves

recalling the impeded stream
is the one that sings

Rocks shaken there like bells
Stream burbling until dry September

Does it know how to start
its song again we wonder

And though silent then
it answers