melissaahowells
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old man wind roars
ancient and savage bellowing down the black corridor of night fragile sheets of glass rattle pinging while old man wind sings in all his fury I shiver under thin quilts the slightest armor shielding me from bitter cold in storms like this I've been young I've been old enduring the elements sometimes managing well sometimes not white outs those North Dakota blizzards occasionally snow up to the roof and Minnesota sidewalks glazed with the slickest sheets of glare ice only weeks before our gentle trees were entombed in one inch of frozen sleet and then stuck bending into the walls of our building looking to the world like sorrowing children later in the thaw I carefully freed their fragile branches as crashes of ice slammed into the walkway below calving like glaciers in the new 45 degree thaw today the trees will fight old man wind again I am praying for them for all God's creatures braving his fury out in the bitterest cold oh how I know there will be casualties one week ago a homeless man died huddled in a single blanket in the windy night yesterday a homeless woman was found huddled and frozen solid in a downtown parking high rise both of them were people close to my own age their lives cut down tragically I've faced unkind winters yet it seems to me that this has been one of the unkindest but I think it has more to do with humanity or the lack of it than the fury of old man wind 9:31 am PST January 8 2017 legal copyright for this poem/work for this copyright site title by this author/writer Melissa A Howells Meloo Straight from her Tilt-a-World these are the times, New Roman, Blue Menu (symbolic metaphor) Vote for this poem |
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