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Wind

By Noah Falck Suppose the wind falls in love with the wrong season and arrives at the door of winter with nothing left. No more staring at the overheard music of trees or the blowing of hats down streets. And what future is a silent November. The leaves are already, already. No, the children cannot imagine a sky without kites, without the on again off again wedding of clouds. Contributor’s Note: NOAH FALCK will join the Buffalo-based Americana roots band Ten Cent Howl from 5:30 to 7:30 p.m. Friday as featured artists at the Second Friday event at the Burchfield Penney Art Center, 1300 Elmwood Ave. He works as education director at Just Buffalo Literary Center and curates the Silo City Reading Series. This poem appears in his 2012 full-length collection of poems “Snowmen Losing Weight” (BatCat Press).