Winter Wind
       

Whitecaps on the river-so fierce
is the day's wind: a crowd of people
waving hats in the air. They must be
waving goodbye. Not yet, he thinks,
best not to look. Chickadees flutter
among the branches of the juniper,
playing it safe. Who knows where
they'd end up? Feathered confetti.
All night he dreamt of cars in collision;
someone's done for, that's for certain.
Doors bang; clouds rush to the east.
So much disorder and the sky appears
bluer than ever, a page across which
indistinct warnings are scrawled in haste.

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Copyright © 2014 Stephen Dobyns All rights reserved
from New Letters
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission