(Big storm here tonight.  I had a tough time concentrating, but with nine months of experience, today’s entry is here.  Day 275…)

Feels like my life is ready to blow…

I’m not sure if the howling winds
Are outside my window
Or inside my windows
Can you see the wolves
Intending to do away with the last straw
The bundle of sticks used in the fire
And they hope to sink teeth into pink matter
Before I fortify it
Behind morals of stories that help me sleep peacefully through the storms

With a hand full of jokers
Home is constructed
My pen
A trump card filled with mortar
Layer idea with word
With idea
With sentence
I guess wolves can’t blow down a stacked deck
And these pieces of prayer
Are stronger than any tornado
Spinning inside
Or outside
My windows