december 30
The man in the wind
is not the guard in uniform white,
round on his parole ,
the man in the wind is not the police
his duty in turns , night watchman,
nor the man locking the mega shop,
the man in the wind with a watchful eye
on the visitors in Mall ;
Far off, ruffled by the windpower
driving by car, he questions himself
and reads his own mind,
meandering where, leading where.
Tuned all the shutters of wind
blowing fast endless rhythm of own,
wind blowing in all corners,
collecting all garbage piles ,
the stink on air dipped by showers mild
when end comes no one knows.
The man in car returns ,after slow drive
drowning his own fear until reaches home
only prayers his sage by his side.
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