The Winds that Wait

The winds hold
Poised
Silent and still
Above the steaming city
Where rivers of sweat
Flow
The oppressive heat
Grows

Waiting for the breeze
Below
The still air spies
Hopes that arise
Steaming up towards the hill
Where the winds wait
But then they dissipate
Too much time has stood still.

In waiting for the moment
To foment
The winds of change have died.