Letter in the Wind

In a dream, a letter never dispatched
dwells in the alphabet of the wind
Between A of dawn and Z of zenith they align
Syllables that tremble like rhymes given.
It glides through the clouds, a suspended signature,
Every consonant is a sail that never reaches shore;
It has no recipient, only direction,
and guides through paths unseen.
When the night grazes it, it illuminates,
a scent of paper and salt guards it;
the letter lives, though staying in the air,
like a dream left unanswered.