The wind
is gusting and blowing
with more and more power, and
I can hear the rocking chairs where
I sit to slice in the summer and where I like
to sip coffee and read getting knocked over and I think
I saw the porch light
reflect off a tumbling trash can and am wondering if
it is ours and where it will be
by morning and what is that crashing against
the porch railing and I bet it's the neighbor's trash can but which one
will be almost
impossible to tell because things are blowing and tossing and banging
like a toddler in full on tantrum mode and it just
won't stop.
You must be in the midst of those terrible storms! At least that is exactly what I picture in my mind. Your stream-of-consciousness really pounds like a storm, like that toddler you end with. Love this slice!
ReplyDeleteIt is awfully nasty out there! The wind is roaring outside my window. I love your phrase "blowing and tossing and banging" and your comparison to a toddler's tantrum. You've captured the mood of this wind!
ReplyDeleteI'm reading this while I listen to the wind howling outside...and remembering the tantrum that MY littly guy threw this evening before dinner. You must have been "channeling" Eli's mood when you wrote this. :)
ReplyDeletelove the layout & also like the jerky way your poem reads, just like things being blown around! Terrific. Hope only the cans were taken!
ReplyDeleteOoo! Love the format and the never ending windiness of the words as they bang around on the page!
ReplyDeleteYou work words in remarkable ways. I'm so glad you're writing.
ReplyDeleteLove your poem. I walked outside last night to fill the woodstove and when I looked up the trees were whipping back and forth. I thought, I hope one of these is not on my house in the morning. Thankfully just branches here on the ground. You captured the moment.
ReplyDeleteSo creative! Your structure captured the mood. I like the comparison to a toddler.
ReplyDeleteMary Helen