Bio Note: I am a writer and story performer who spends a lot of March curled up on the couch reading. When the days turn warm, I scurry to the ocean to look for shells or pick daffodils from my garden.
March: The Season of the Big Dog Wind
Joe called it the big dog wind the one that chases you down as you walk along Jumping on you when you least expect it Joe called it the big dog wind That sudden blast of air from the sky strong enough push you down on the sidewalk Forcing the breath out of you Panting over you with Breath of the mountains He is strong beyond What he realizes His howl making it hard to walk Hard even to stand up straight Joe called it a big dog wind. Today, recalling that, when I felt wind bearing down on me, I cried out "Heel, wind, heel!" Along the path, as I walked by bare birch branches rattled together in a laughing response to my exhortation of the wind. Wind himself seemed to take no heed of me, although I thought I heard a laugh within the howl, as he continued on his way.
©2021 Joan Leotta
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