Bernice L. McFadden's novel, The Warmest
December, inspired my thoughts here.
mocking
taunting
come here
go there
listen to the wind
the voice laughs in my face
full blown strength gutting my image
stripping, smearing me the length of the field
no flowers, just spikes sticking out of the ground
you wait for me to appear
you whisper to me sweetly
you soak me up like a sponge
brace yourself, the wind tells me
as I careen around the edges of my fate
laugh, wind, go ahead and laugh!
your thorny nettles settle deep within my skin
quietly I wait
for a tender sound
you pick me up
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