Early
this morning
on the wind:

a song
lifted me by half-steps
up a heavenly scale,
sent me spiraling upward
with smooth motion,
perfect pitch,
toward finale sunset,
crescendo chorus
of all who love,
release
grace notes
bubbling up
on the wind.

Late
this evening
on the wind:

a song
lowered me by half-steps
down a hellish scale,
sent me spiraling downward
with stops and starts,
in screeching voice,
toward first night,
dark decrescendo
of all who wait,
search still
for love,
spill pain
on the wind.