February 17, 2025

the winds rush against the house
which has stood for near one hundred years
and yet my heart leaps
into my throat
and i can’t breathe
or calm the ba-BUM ba-BUM ba-BUM
because what if
what if
what if
this time, the wind really does mean
the ominous
the apocalypse
the end?

January 10, 2024

the wind howling all night
rain smack splat thwacking the windows —
the puppy and i, unable to rest our eyes,
for hoping the terror in the night
is just nature knocking a little too forcefully
on our door
[but fear it is something more];
staring into the darkness
hoping to see a clue being borne,
hoping to see the end of the storm —
unable, we slink to a different bedroom
a smaller, cozier, stiffer bedroom
thank goodness for a guest bed, one where i can
fall asleep
but i wish wish wish
it could be a bed
where i stay
a
sleep
all night
all night

alas, alack,
’tis not to be

[but at least sleep caught up with the puppy]