Usually I love the wind,
Like facing up and
Pitting myself
Against its gusts, but,
Just for once
I'd've liked some still today
Quiet and calm,
Dark, bright, or cold
I don't mind
Just without the bind
Of doubling myself
To meet its
Playfully aggressive greetings.
My breath's been stolen
By rough slaps,
I'm chapped, unhappy,
Palpitating,
Waiting for my ears
To thaw
From sore to normal.
Yes, recovering
Grey-faced
And waylaid,
I would say
I could have
Done without
The wind today -
That beguiling brat
Who thinks it's all that,
Loving to chat shit
And steal my hat.
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