In Nature's Slipstream

They are immense, peculiar in their
presence, standing in ordered rows, planted
upon the verdant arras. Still, like ancient
massive, stone-dolmens, though their wide,
scepter-shaped blades are meant to
steadily, efficiently, reliably revolve, those
powerful images on the rural landscape.

The sky, blue and hushed, widespread
with white billowing wisps, is in no mood
to co-operate. Aeolus stubbornly holds
back his motion-beckoning breath. Until
finally an urgent exhalation nudges the
blades to stir themselves. Slowly, gracefully,
they obey the imperative that placed them
there on acreage after rural acreage.

Until finally, the army of wind-blades is
inexorably propelled, shifted from useless
indolence to the prospect of a standing army
of purposeful, revolving-determined action
energetically flailing the atmosphere, taming
the wild wind of exploitative usefulness.