Outside my door and windows
Fury of wind sweeping by
Daylight dust
Shadowing the sun
Buffeting windowpanes
Whispering beneath the door
Great gusts dominating the street
Not a soul testing their strength
Except me
Stepping outside
Aiming my back against the wind
Holding my own in the middle of the avenue
No cars
Only a few spying from behind their curtains
Deciding to take a chance
Deflating my ego and letting go
Fate having its way
Windswept to an unknown destination
Refilling me with a life of meaning.
Bionote
Stephen Jarrell Williams loves to write in the middle of the night with a grin and grimace and flame in his heart. He's been published here and there and in-between at Chronogram Magazine, Haight Ashbury Literary Journal, Hawaii Review, Poesia, and others. He is the editor of Dead Snakes Poetry Magazine.
The courage of choice is at times it's own reward.
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