“…the wind blows nothing but night”—Don Stinson Some nights the wind seems to move even the stars, clouds scudding by them so fast my point of reference shifts and I float, too, the wind moving the fine hairs on my arms, my neck, as if it were me streaming, swimming the sea of sky, phosphorescent constellations my wake, the stars alternating blue or red or white as they churn and spin with each kick of my feet. I reach out with my arms fully extended, seize hands-full of air and light, spend the whole night roiling: a cyclone of starlight and gusts.
Roy Beckemeyer’s latest poetry collection is Mouth Brimming Over (Blue Cedar Press). Stage Whispers (Meadowlark Books) won the 2019 Nelson Poetry Book Award. Amanuensis Angel (Spartan Press) assembled ekphrastic poems inspired by depictions of angels in works of modern art. Music I Once Could Dance To (Coal City Press) was a 2015 Kansas Notable Book. He is on the editorial boards of Konza Journal and River City Poetry. Beckemeyer lives in Wichita, Kansas. His poetry work has been nominated for Pushcart and Best of the Net awards and was selected for Best Small Fictions 2019. Beckemeyer is a retired engineer and scientific journal editor; he and his wife, Pat, celebrated their 58th-anniversary in 2019. In his spare time, he researches the Paleozoic insect fauna of Kansas, Oklahoma, and Alabama, and the mechanics and evolution of insect flight.
Editor-in-Chief Laura Lee Washburn is the Director of Creative Writing at Pittsburg State University in Kansas, and the author of This Good Warm Place: 10th Anniversary Expanded Edition (March Street) and Watching the Contortionists (Palanquin Chapbook Prize). Her poetry has appeared in such journals as TheNewVerse.News, Carolina Quarterly, Ninth Letter, The Sun, and Valparaiso Review. Harbor Review’s microchap prize is named in her honor.
The Coop: A Poetry Cooperative 
This is a very beautiful poem. I was already to run outside and catch the wind until I remembered that tonight it is minus 8 degrees in KC. But your poem brought up memories of past springs and the realization that “the wind in my face” will be next up after this cold spell lifts.
I was impressed how you enabled me to feel the poem from beginning to end.
That is an absolutely wonderful poem, Roy!
Thanks, Annie and Matushka!