Thursday, March 09, 2017 1:49 PM
The piano growls at me from the corner
The wind blows memories against the window-glass
The ache circles within me, an adversary in waiting
The air stings my skin with the numbness
The time flails my thoughts, world encompassed
Within my tiny brain of electrified glop
The computer invites me to crawl inside
The speakers hug my ears—the monitor titillates
Then the music ends.
Alone in a room with the atmosphere battering
At the house as the only sound—eerie and lonesome
I can’t type you away.
By Xper Dunn
I like your poem. The wind is howling down here. I do enjoy a beautiful snow day but the clean up folks just aren’t as skilled as they are up there. I remember hearing the plows in the early morning hours hoping we wouldn’t have school that day. They cancel school here just if the word snow is whispered. Our biggest issue is usually black ice. Tim and Cindy go to Aruba every year. I think they have a time share. They are supposed to fly in to Hartford either Sunday or Monday. I wish them well.