Windy nights, windy lives (Nov 29, 1998).

Some of us are lucky to have survived the decisions of our youth. Some are barely, and bravely, surviving their youth.


Sundance wind (for Carol Ann)

Oh howling, wailing wind.
The sadness. The lonesome wailing wind.
The trees retreat and the snow dances
to the loud howling wind.
The power.  Brute raw strength.
Wailing as power lines sway.
and the wind churns.

Inside a beauty glows.
New hair-do.  New lotion.
Skin radiant in flushed blaze.
Lonely inside.  Alcohol and nicotine inside.
Cancer inside.
Brave in friendly mask.  Outside.
Laughing, drinking.  One of the gang.  Inside.

Youth is here.
Innocence, come and gone.
Father and husband, come and gone.
Chemo, come and gone.
15 month old.  Here.
Wailing, howling wind.  Here and gone.

Wind outside.
The glow here.  Inside.
The fear.  Uncertainty.
Here.  Inside.  ...but hidden.
Howling...
With laughter.  With drink.  With friends.

Outside.
The trees.  The mountains.  The world.
Whirled.
Howls.  Wails.  Waits.
But for now, the wind.
The fierce, desperate wind.
Oh howling, wailing wind.

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Alan Fleming alanf@dorje.com