Work in Progress: Wind and Weathervane

A victorian weathervane

denies Wind's advances

revealing her copper cheek

she deflects his kiss.

He thrusts and whispers,

fingers failing to furl 

around her base.

And she,

pinnacle of perpetual pivot

cannot be beleaguered by Wind.

He evacuates from her presence

like a vapor.

And with a final pirouette, 

Weathervane releases a sigh.

The three particles of air

displaced by her breath

hum their way into Wind's ear.

Taunted by her song,

Reminded of his defeat,

He calls his sister, Rain.

Rain's glaucous cords lasso around

the sanguine dancer.

Usurped by rust,

Unable to catch the sun,

Quiescence quiets her pivots

and Wind may at last have his kiss.