When it tears through, fearful things happen:
trees topple, roofs fly apart,
lines come down, power goes out.
I’m never easy in rising wind.
After four weeks, between chemo series,
she’ll be allowed home for a week or two.
She longs for fresh air, wind in her hair,
hair she no longer has.
Now into the first weeks of autumn,
I leave the hospital after today’s visit,
walk out into the brewing storm,
breathe in the lashing rain and wind.
Clamor 