The wind

Malevolent, it circles the house. Thrusting trees against the fence and the walls. The creaks are urgent around me.

The tiniest of sparrows is swept to my window and pleads to be let it in.

The wind doesn’t howl, it taunts ‘Who, who’ or is it ‘You, you, you’?

There is a slippery sadness inside me. I feel it under my eyelids and in my lungs it suppresses my will to breathe again.

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