The Windy Corner
February rooftops on a Friday afternoon
Covered in snow and all-types of white
I sit and contemplate, looking out my office window
Watching wisps of smoke from the stacks
Bend and blow in the wind, the wind that
Shakes and rattles the panes, trying to get inside.
Christ Died for Our Sins. While beneath
Folks clutch their coat collar to their throat,
Traversing Sheridan and Wilson,
Fighting to get home.