Good writing, with a strong point and with life oozing out.

Pneuma II

August 26, 2005

Last time I was here
I sat inside
Watching wind and water
Storm the streets
And chase the people.

With detachment,
I considered the wind
The winds of change
Beginning to stir
Offering hints of movement.

Now, I’m outside
Where the constant flow
Is an irritant
An unceasing high pressure system
Which seems somehow personal.

I eat like a question mark
Hands pressing food and wrappers
Elbows pinning papers to table
Marshaled against this pressure
And flapping and fluttering.

Across the street
The giant screen
Shows a hurricane
“It’s mostly wind,”
They report, relieved.

Racks of plywood save the status quo
Maintain your position
While a lone surfer
Rejoices in the wind.

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