November 28, 2006

tissues


the wind came,
and with it all hopes of hunkering
were swept up by the snowdrifts, those
crazy crazy snowdrifts,
standing in the middle knowing not where to hide
from the assault of the weather
from the rage of the storm.

Inside, it's no better, mountains of kleenex
echo those mountains of snowdrifts
my face is cracking slowly
my throat is raw.

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