Wednesday, October 14, 2020

October Windstorm

October windstorm, wanting to be noticed, 
Kills the power and my focus, 
Sending me home to work on something 
That doesn't depend on electricity. 
Pulling weeds, thorns, other things that hurt, 
My son comes running outside, to catch a breeze, 
His mother watching in submission, humbled 
By how something threatening can be fun. 
He sprints through the gusts, excitation spiking 
With each rumble of the branches, hollering fear, 
Pretending he's in danger but really very fine. 
The wind feels fresh and free on my sweaty face, 
Tasting of autumn leaves, fruits for harvest, 
Dark seedy portensions of Halloween looming 
Beyond the blue sky, signifying a return 
To the shadows, where we celebrate holidays, 
Birthdays and anniversaries, donning masks 
To distract us from the destruction of winter. 

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