tumbles of shriveled hydrangea

flyaways from our neighbor’s garbage

the rattle of northwesterly winds

frost warnings for the overnight —

an unsettling toward what comes next

I strike at my chest —

ritual dictates three measures.

in truth, though, that’s only

just the suggested gesture.

my core, I could scoop

and hollow it out —

and then some.

it begins in the far, upper reaches

of the north; some might suggest

at the very top of the world.

tiny whispers at first, a whistle, a hiss —

soon, a screaming, screeching banshee.

its momentum builds and grows and expands

across forests, lakes, rivers & ponds,

vast acres of woodland, mountains and plains,

spreading south into the disjointed States.

frigid cold, a raw & hungry wind —

a relentless ferocity that inundates the land.

seasons shift within seasons

and time is held captive

to the merciless impulses of nature.