The Coming of the Cold, East Wind

He watches the blades of dune grass
shudder in the cold, east wind —
a universe of shuddering, blade upon blade;
he looks up at the newly emerging leaves
shuddering in the trees,
a universe of shuddering, leaf upon leaf;
he thinks of the whitecaps on the inland lake
shuddering in the wind —
a universe of shuddering, wave upon wave;
he thinks of the waves moving out into
the Big Lake, gaining speed, gaining strength,
crashing against the shore in Racine, Wisconsin —
the wind moving ever faster and faster, swirling,
twisting, tearing, devastating —
a universe of dune grass shuddering,
a universe of leaves shuddering,
a universe of waves crashing,
a universe of wind blowing, blowing,
blowing your house down.

 

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