I started to see each passing vehicle and recall the sound yours’ made. You love to move fast, you makes wind. I walks, I could only find winds. Wind was forced out of your machines, so quickly thus they got so loud. Dissipating  opaqueness into fully vanished; it was never the wind, it was the dust. That one poem you recite to everyone, and yourself, same as the ethics and rules you keep for ur simple life, fails to catch the wind, feelings, the rain, the spring.