Chinook

It’s a soggy wind
Blown round the corner
In the last breaths before midnight
And the road home
Leaving the quivering puddles in the spaces where the road and sidewalk meet
Soon the frost will kiss them to keep them
In place

It’s a deeper wind
Blown down inside
Past the promise of the day
And the road home
Peeling the lacy white gown away from the harlot – snow
And when it’s alone – used up – down to its core
Of dirt

It’s a harder wind
Blown resolutely away
Over the erosion of years
And the winding road home
Wiping out the tracks of yesterday made in the freshness of glittering hope
And the familiar path home is hidden under another morning’s
Snow

The wind is not alone
It is only empty
It is what is left behind that is alone
Again as it once was
To eek out the hope of courage against another wind

It’s a roaring wind…