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2:45 am The Wind
Tugging and tearing -
backing off - tugging and tearing,
but this is not a terrier.
It's the wind punching at ghosts,
arguing with itself, railing against
the air it's forced to live in.
Stalking out - silence - back again.
So back from the past
come bellowing visions.
With restless appetite we
gnaw at the knuckle of our history,
sharpening teeth for conflicts,
or grinding them flat and useless,
senseless as a rattling house,
as mindless as a banging window.
On a starless night like this
with the wind's noise blowing through it,
with the world's noise blowing through it,
we are the restless ones,
kept safe from the buffeting
storm by roofs and walls, but not from
what tugs and tears
and will not leave off, even
in the morning's silent stillness.
This poem is part of the "Natural Causes" collection of poems with illustrations by Geoff MacEwan.
For more information, go to Poems and Etchings - Natural Causes.
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