Afraid Of The Wind

 

Once it blew past,

but now it turns

and leans on my window,

intent on reminding me

that the earth isn’t reliable,

not anymore.

 

Things move

that ought not to move;

the eaves shake, the light shivers,

and somewhere

down underneath my heart

the bedrock stumbles and shifts.

 

 

Every time,

I look up, listening;

waiting

to hear the far-off growl

of an inbound earthquake—

waiting

for the bottom to fall out of the world.