Promptly 4, 5 and 6

Touch

Touch

A light breeze ruffles the hairs on my forearm
I feel each one move
a tree in the forest, bending, swaying
glad of the cooling influence of the air

Just as the wind sweeps through the wheatfield
bending the gold in waves
and I grasp the seedhead of one
crush it in my fingers to scatter

Like seabirds landing to rest in the sea
riding the billows of the deep
and beckoning fishers from afar
while I cling to the rough rigging rope.


Line count: 12
Free verse
For Promptly Poetry Challenge, Week 45
Prompt: Select one of the five senses, then write a poem about it.