0:19 (Suddenly Awake)

Caught naked, I feel slanted against the elements.

The wind has claws.

And I am certain that the pebbles underfoot were once bones

Or are fragments of ancient weaponry.

My hands, eyeless and dumb as empty bottles,

Reach into darkness.

What is this?

Has this a terrible head?

A spiked tail?

Poisoned bite?

No.

Merely a cold stick.

The wind has become hammers wrapped deep in cotton

And swung against my chest.

I wake under heavy blankets.

--Mitchell Hegman