Another's Wind To Blow

Walking around a Mythical town That doesn’t exist Looking for what I would never find I trod those same streets That I had been down In my dreams before The sky barren Except for the sound Of the exodus Of wings Hovering over people All moving away The backs of their heads The only thing visible As they marched off Into the dark With faces and eyes Mortgaged…. To pay for all the things that they would never do In debt to one last promise they will never keep The terms of their indecision written in the blood of repetition The movement of the hawk —another’s wind to blow (Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)