The Bitter Wind Poem by Keith Dovoric

(for George)

Same thing every morning
Same thing every day
They make you do more mileage
For slightly less in pay

Monday storms the embassy
Wednesday stays the course
Friday caps the highlights
Of another Big Divorce

But I'm not givin' in
To that bitter wind
No, I'm not givin' in
To that bitter wind

There's a dead deer on the roadside
A suitcase on your steps
A body in formaldehyde
A contract on your debts

Symbols of dissolving
And symbols of decay
Things have stopped improving
Ever since we parted ways

But I'm not givin' in
To that bitter wind
No, I'm not givin' in
To that bitter wind

The painter checks the window:
There's nothing there to see
A meadow full of ashes
A barren, wasted sea

When did we stop looking
With the eyes were intended?
Will we bond with this bright city
Only after it has ended?