the porch wind chimes furiously announced this wind kicked up suddenly it became another thing keeping my racing mind up at this late hour
its shaking eaves, this wind knocking aged sun damaged corrigated tin off the greenhouse barn roof i hear it tin slamming against fence landing skitting across driveway rocks
i see it flashcards of a week’s events the talk-talk of sleeplessness slamming inside my head direct hit to photo finish behind closed tired eyeballs heart racing wind racing thoughts racing time racing toward morning hellbent on delivering me too soon to a day of work
maybe i should medicate force sleep’s heavy hand to stop the crazed cinema of wakefullness has it only been a week? while awaiting the adjustment back to normalcy that keeps eluding me 48 hours replay over and over inside this head exhaustion announces the hours the heaviness of grief’s arms stay tight embracing shoulder gut to belly belly to heart reel to reel this tape plays racing against wind against time against a simple request to be able to realize/accept the joy of this latest departure and to get the fuck on with the important business of rejoining the living of accepting the inevitablity of our own race into the wind