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