Winds are blowing off Elliot Bay,
rain in sheets on the hills;
old Seattle waking up to black coffee
and the sound of another storm.

I’m heading out
to find an egg in this town,
maybe some bacon and bread.

Gusts pound off the buildings
challenging their insult;
sea birds hunker down
tucked into their wings.

What’s born on the ocean
has time on its side
but I’ve a few pennies of kindness
and a dollar or two of ambition.
It’s time to face the wind.

 

Face the Wind

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

9 Responses

  1. You have become my favorite poet Don. Now, if only you would show your face around here now and again….

  2. Thank you for reminding me of the beauty of windswept rain and enjoyment of the simple things, like breakfast. Peace be unto you this All Saints Day.

  3. I Love this one, Don. It’s so simple and honest. It’s a bite of real food today……..Thank you….

  4. Hard to keep a good man away from bacon, eggs, and toast in the morning. I can smell this one!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *