the car dances awkwardly with the wind
ducking and grunting and protecting its head
at tops of hills
as I eye the fallen pines on either
side of the road
wreckage from last week’s snow storm

somebody said to me, just the other day,
that they felt they were
peering into the future
and saw bleakness and gray
(like Debussy’s Des pas sur la neige
so I played it in church yesterday morning
each sixteenth-eighth pattern the scuff
of your heel into the snow
the melody your thoughts,
as I explained to Dennis, after)
and I said no
one can see the future
I thought I saw it once
and told myself how I would feel

but now I am your star-struck girl,
with no need to knuckle down

01 Knuckle Down

2 Responses to “gusts”

  1. March 13, 2012 at 6:22 pm

    I do love your poetry. The image of the car dancing with the wind is great…but also I seem to see a deeper side of you that isn’t always apparent in other posts

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