Little Johnny Windstorm

“Look at me!”, you shout in your boisterous voice,
as you rip the front door out of my hand,
sending me down the steps in a drunken stumble.

Broad shouldered,
you meet my forward advance
like a defensive lineman,
making me fight for every step
down the concrete path;
daring me to look you in the face.

You dance around me like a schoolyard bully;
tugging at my clothes, touseling my hair,
all the while laughing at my attempts
to evade your mockery.
Refuge is finally reached
behind strong glass doors.

I watch from my haven of safety,
as you run off down the street;
kicking leaves into the air;
swinging from tree branches;
howling in childish delight.

Published in: on October 28, 2010 at 11:51 am  Comments (4)  
Tags: , , , , , , ,

The URI to TrackBack this entry is:

RSS feed for comments on this post.

4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. This is a delightful read. I can feel the wind, and nearly developed a sympathetic lean on the first read-through, can hear the pulsing laughter and see the leaves and detritus skipping along with it.

    Lovely piece.


    • Thank you. It was a very fun write.


  2. Saw your post on “Ruminate” regarding Poetry and Pain. Just a short visit this time, love this tactile piece on Johnny Windstorm. Look forward to reading more. Thanks.


    • Thanks for stopping by Debbie.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: