Outside In

A night of wind & the smell of thawed soil, rustle of nightcrawlers tugging leaves down under the earth, rapid footfalls of rain. At the woods’ edge, a constant creaking & groaning, as if from doors swinging loose on their hinges, which are stiff with rust from a lifetime in the open air. I sleep without dreaming, wake without waking up. Two more hairs turn white according to schedule. The house shakes with the effort to keep from flying apart.