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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.

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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.

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Daily writing prompt
Do lazy days make you feel rested or unproductive?
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Used to be, when I was being lazy, I hovered between feeling guilty and feeling glorious.

After I retired, it took almost six months before I could sit back and feel at ease with those days when nothing much was ever done or accomplished under my watch. Shortly after I left work – for good, on March 15th, 2017 – All Hail, the Ides of March! – I started keeping a WIAT journal: What I Accomplished Today.

Some days, the only thing I write down is the word nothing while some days there are several entries. Over the years, I’m increasingly just fine with that though truth be told, those nada entries, are pretty rare.

It’s all good. I’m at peace.

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her favorite university sweatshirt —

tiny hole grown larger over the years —

strategically centered where her brassiere cups

meet in the middle         no matter

that’s what turtlenecks are for,

to cover the skin, to warm the flesh

to hide what wishes could be seen