The wind is shaking the chairs on the verandah
Iron banging on wood
The screens around the outer provide the whistle
The gap in the windows the howl
The whole orchestra is playing now
Falling silent as the wind dips
Blows itself out
Only to gust in again
And I can’t sleep for the sound
I know
I know
My head is the same
A giant receptacle for the wind
Making noises
As it drifts through
Rattling on old memories
Skeleton bones clack and cackle
Empty places filling
Thoughts cracking
Paint lifting
It’s just the wind
Let the voice blow away
Breathe in
Out
And think in nothings
Blank spaces
As words spring up
Flatten them
I’ll think later
Right now
The screen door is banging
It’s just the wind
Everything blows itself quiet eventually
Even us
Lives snuffed
Then that voice that never shuts up
Will be silenced
But until then
It’s just the wind
Let it flow in
And out
