I wrote this drivel yesterday afternoon:
my god this wind is deafening
and when it stops
the silence even more so
I imagine the wind swirling and shifting
the way the light does
from the sweeping clouds
through the cracks in my heavydrawn drapes
My thoughts turn to you
they shift and swirl
as do the light and the wind
I anticipate your reaction
to the words and books I have sent you
I have labored over the text
My tears have spilled onto it
As the wind roars around my house
and suddenly stops
only to recommence
I can only think of us
Alone in my bed
protected from the roaring sporadic gusts
and the fickle shifty light
seeping in through the drapes
I rub my cold white feet together
and imagine you are not worlds away


Afterwards, I went outside. It had just rained, and after if rains in New Mexico, there is this light. I cannot articulate enough accurate adjectives to precisely portray the mental image I want to project. If you have not seen it, let it suffice for me to say that you have no idea.

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