Wind Shear

The oaks perceiving the assailing breeze shiver off

their nuts, swallows and squirrels

upwards to a dark fearful sky

that camouflages broken peace in the wild promises

of the swirling winds.

Night breaks night—

smashing every compass point in impatience.

Bricks stem to snow, the wind ghosts every leaf

in mournful woe.

The wasp tail shears enter in breathing

a final winter to her old house.

Inside her chest the wind hornets sting her,

with the loneliness of the yet and not yet to be.

The sofa pillows fly down the stairs

saving her small barking dog ascending the dark.

She hears black birds caw to her in the chaos,

the bully air stabbing in sharp awe,

stabbing her aware.

She knows it now.  She sees the reason and agrees.