Brokenbutterfly22
icy wind blasts
straight through the
cracks and drafts
blowing the world down
eerie, ugly, haunting sound
won't be ignored
then comes the rain
stinging the streets
bullets of hail
whipping glass
a cold evil night
tormenting my mind
with lost loves
thoughts still stirring
at the witching hour
the only glow
on the block
my bedroom window
and what comes next
a f***ing rapping
a f***ing tapping
a rapping on my front porch door
"Is it the wind?" asks I
while racing to the light
flipping the switch
to illuminate the night
nothing
from my window do I see
so I yell into the blackest storm
"Is anyone out there--hello?"
but nothing
not even a peep returns to me
so back to the chatroom I return
and begin my reply to my
dear brokenbutterfly22
barely touch I the keys
and comes again that f***ing rapping
who in the hell could that rapping be?
I grab a weapon to comfort me
and stand near that noise I'm ready to see
that f***ing tapping
that rapping on my back porch door
of which I'm safely on the other side
I call out and it replies
"it's Noreen"
"Who the f*** are you?"
"I came from the jail.
Your house has the only light.
It's so cold. Can I please come in?"
and this thirty-five year old stranger
who doesn't look a day younger than fifty
I let in
meth hasn't been kind to her
I send the sojourner to an empty room,
and go back to my dear brokenbutterfly22
not two minutes later
her voice
at my bedroom door
"Do you have something I can smoke?" she asks
"No," I say
wishing she would go away
who comes calling at this hour
rumbles through my head,
and better yet,
who's the idiot who lets her in?
her voice
still there
says she can't sleep
"Can I please-please drink
some of your whiskey?" she implores
(I remember
on my dining room table
a bottle of bonded rye
left by my son from Kentucky)
"Hell, no!" I exclaim
and in righteous indignation
I grudgingly tear away
from my dear brokenbutterfly22
"Listen, I let you in.
I didn't have to.
According to the Universe,
you're not my responsibility.
Can you just go to bed?"
"Yes sir. I'm sorry.
I really appreciate that you let me in."
yeah, I'm not nice
yet do I nice things
a cold, callous, mother***er
no, not according to
my dear brokenbutterfly22
Copyright © Steven Young | Year Posted 2023
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