Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Well, it's March. We had 70 degree temps during the day, followed by rain and a big windstorm that woke us up. It was like this...
Wind lashed debris into city streets
like a trash man avenging the worst
day of his life. Air bulged with sound,
sirens spun blue to red while the injured
stacked up in ERs. Against the televised
litany of projected highs and lows,
excitement spiked like fever.
We had nothing to lose. We called
the storm out, heckled it, shot the wind
with paintballs, tried to make it show
its face. It burgled our house of words
instead, hurled a tree through the window
and blew out the lights, leaving us small
and blind, mouths open, each moment
a windsock of breath spilling out.