a narrow deserted road,
path for wild winds
carrying traces of damp green
tumbling around and through
flow from purple moonlit skies
into a quiet rumble in the earth below your feet.
It swells insistently by the moment.
Air pounds with intensity,
a growing living entity,
until at last across the fields you see –
at the crest of a midnight hill,
until you are certain
you shall be softly sweetly trampled