In This Shack a Cold Wind Blows
In this shack a cold wind blows,
shuffling papers and ideas before settling
on the floor. Leaves rustling. Tea,
cooling. You recall the peace of near
death, fear circling the drain,
giving in to breath, labored but certain,
one exiting another and again,
then laughing at the improbability: you
are nothing. You were nothing.
Nothing will come of you. You say
yesterday, and think tomorrow. Today.
* * *
“In This Shack a Cold Wind Blows” was first published in April 2019 by The Elixir Magazine out of Yemen.
O at the Edges 
Such incredible and poignant writing here, Robert!
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Thanks very much!
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This one’s “peace of near death” registers differently for me given my son’s death not quite a year ago. There was a definite quietening of all anxieties in the last few hours knowing his end was eminent, his journey over, my role as care-giver finished. Before the grief set it, peace. Thanks for this reminder, takes me back to the peace.
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A different peace, yet somehow the same.
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