The windmill

Art from
Art from

I am a windmill
No flapping of my arms
will distract them
as they cycle past smoothly
or wobble over unseen pebbles
I have become part of the vast blue
moving as the sun and the moon do
imperceptibly across the sky
My shoulders massaged by the breeze.

There are newer whirring contraptions with
fancier wings, faster speeds
Go ahead, be snapped with them
I smile sedately, feeling at ease
I no longer need to dance and please
The fair has shifted from under me
the hullabaloo heard from a pleasing distance
Smoke rising straight into the quiet blue
I stretch my legs but stay where I belong.

Do I urge the slower ones as they pause?
Around the corner may lie the biggest catch of all
They run, eager not to be left behind
I am amused as I know
whirring air can make deceptive sounds.

©Reena Prasad 5th Dec 2012

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