The way the wind moves through the trees,
An angels sweater is sewn
By a needle threaded with breeze
Every time the wind is blown.
Gusts are reminded every time
To leave two holes in the rear
For the angels wings to unfold,
And allow it to fly near.
The angel always brings
Scissors for its sweater.
To cut the hanging strings,
And allow it to fly better.
wonderful work .
awesome poem .