The Wind

adam i. howard

The wind whistling in the window
voices from the door ajar
a good friend on the other line
and a familiar face nearby

The wind whistling in the window
Letters in the desk drawer
Towels folded on the bed
A spoon upon the floor

The wind whistling in the window
The fan is still
The voices stop
The silent noises, alone

The wind whistling in the window
Stacks of papers at my feet
The closet doors are open
And clean clothes I see within.


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