blustery
we live
in a windy
place whipping
past and stealing
papers and hats
it flies furious
unrelenting.
i don't mind so much in the spring.
when it does not slice you open
as it does in the winter. and i also
don't mind in the yellow sun when it
seems less formidable frightening.
but in the dark
in the rain
as it beats
sputters and taunts
in the middle
night noises
breathing laboured
in cadence
resting peacefully
i sit up in bed
strain to listen
to be quite sure
that the noises are nothing else
and the panic dances under wraps
and the anxiety lumps in my throat
counting down to daylight reprieve
dawn and it's new day promises
i wait
for the
wind to
bid me
farewell.
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