January 3, 2016

In the Wind

Everyone's home
watching football.
Down empty streets,
only a careless
scrap of paper
scurries by
in the wind.
Stoplights blink
and sway together,
warning me,
just as we would
warn a friend.
How can I be out
in this weather?
Don't I have
somewhere to go,
or are the stories
about me true,
now I'm in the wind
without a door
to go back to?