The Wind That Left

The wind, you say, old friend,
The wind that walked athwart my face…
I wonder, yes, now past its end,
I wonder now… I miss its trace…

The stars, you think, were all I saw,
The stars that blithely blinked at me…
And yes, perhaps, that was my flaw,
For now their presence gives me no glee…

Yes, yes, you sound so right, so true,
The wind was why I desired to dream…
It cared, caressed, and never fled from view;
It was me, my faith, and my reason, it seems…

Oh, but this last thing you seem to trust,
This, my friend, you fathom not, and go amiss…
For I knew, was aware, as much as stars, of dust,
And of the wind that left, aloft my last innocent kiss.