A Poem Out of My Lazy Mind
I’d never known the weather to behave that way,
but on that day it did, it blew a gale in my face,
got in my way, slowed my pace down to a crawl,
and – tall as I was – I shrunk down into myself.
We all forge against the weather, day by day by day.
We find ourselves doomed to say the worn out refrains
about the heat, our aches and pains, those chitter-chat remarks
made in flat voices, in parks and elevator rides.
Who knows when we’ll meet again? It could be in the eye
of another storm, sighing together as we hide in the lee
of the last standing tree, and confide, at last,
those secrets of our hearts: that I always noticed you,
That you always noticed me. So that happily we can hold hands
against the ripping wind, to take our last stands at the local bar.