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.
I really like the stark simplicity of this piece, Bob.
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Thanks, Cate. I lean towards the unadorned. But there are those times when I get carried away in the flow of language. 🙂