What the Wind Looks Like

Kathryn Jones

June 7, 2026

I did not know what the wind looked like

until it waltzed through Bigtooth Maples, 

making red and orange leaves twirl.

I did not know what the wind sounded like

until it whooshed through mountain cedar,  

its rosin stroking evergreen boughs.

I did not know what the wind smelled like

until it raked its fingers through wild plum trees,

scattering pink petals on limestone hills. 

Flags flap, grass ripples, dust devils spin, 

but trees are the wind’s soulmates, giving

the invisible proof of its existence.

Kathryn Jones is a poet, journalist, and essayist whose work has been published in The New York Times, Texas Monthly, Texas Highways, and the Texas Observer. Her poetry has appeared in numerous literary journals and anthologies, including TexasPoetryAssignment.com, Unknotting the Line: The Poetry in Prose (Dos Gatos Press, 2023), Lone Star Poetry (Kallisto Gaia Press, 2023), The Senior Class: 100 Poets on Aging  (Lamar University Literary Press, 2024); and in her chapbook, An Orchid’s Guide to Life (Finishing Line Press, 2024), and the collection The Solace of Wild Places (Lamar University Literary Press, 2025). She was inducted into the Texas Institute of Letters in 2016 and lives on a ranch near Glen Rose, Texas.