The Wind

The wind is cold.
Will it blow me away,
Away from where I came from?
Or will I keep hiding behind
a wall of emotions? Emotions that
force me to put down my hands.
Will the wall fall?
When the wind stops blowing
will I be able to get back up?
But I keep my hands up,
Shielding my face. When the wall
comes down – I’ll move.
No wall, no shield, no emotions.

10/23/92