wind

the wind tells you
nothing you don't
already know, but
you listen just
the same. you nod,
and hold your hat,
you button up and firm
your feet to let it blow
against you, it holds
you back, or at least
tries to, of where you
want to go. it comes
from all directions.
lifting up the debris
from the street into
small dark cyclones.
it's too late. too old.
they want you to fail.
it will make them happy
if you listen and
obey the wind.