Windy

Every school kid
knows they are lying
when they tell you
you can’t see the wind.

And I know it still
as the flags whip
back and forth
on their poles
as I stagger
down the street
toward the office.

But I don’t remember
anyone ever disputing
the way the wind sounds.

Louder now than it
has ever been before.
More than a whistle
but less than a scream.

A bitter pursuer
nonetheless.
Chasing you
as it has
all your life.

Loudly.
And around
every corner.
~11/18/14
_____
The first line of both this poem and the one I wrote yesterday came to me as I walked to the office, repeating them in my head so I wouldn’t forget before I got to my desk. I take the words with me, as I always have, and so I’m never alone.

Advertisements
Standard

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s