The wind let me live

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The wind let me live

The wind let me live
By not arriving. The ten thousand

wheels of the highway had stopped
And we sat on its back, still

As food in cans. And the dark
Grew quiet as we killed

Our engines to save fuel.
Mere hours away

The sirens set
Apart each moment in its stillness:

Duration’s blue and red lights.
They bounced off the neighbors’ houses

And into the distance, arriving
At some place where there was

No distance, and the aftermath
Of that. Then the windless rain

Like a chorus that is the song
Of the end of shape. Where will

I be when the one drop of rain
That is my life, descending with the rest,

Bursts against the earth, no longer
The same but exactly the same,

As many molecules as the stars
in a gathering puddle whose surface

riddled by wind reflects the sole
Of a child’s new sneakers

5 thoughts on “The wind let me live

    1. Jeff Schwaner Post author

      Thanks Ann! And I did find Maureen’s note on your site. Very humbling. It shows how a poem can go places the poet can not even imagine and have a resonance that continues to expand — largely due to participation by a reader willing to engage with it. Such a great story!

      Reply

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