THE CITY WIND
Paul Sohar
The uncouth city wind tears in
restlessly to rattle all the windows
but rails only at the brightly lit;
its curses crawl up on the bare
bricks, walls can’t stop the shiver
as the wind staggers down the alley,
tossing trash cans on the naked
belly of the avenue and pasting wet
newspapers against defenseless
shop doors. But if you listen long enough
you start to make sense of the ravings;
they’re not against the light
or the silence spilling from the windows
but against their slow
line of immobility,
that’s what the city wind
has to rattle and shake.
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