16/365: Cabin Fever

snow bank

The wind pulls it all out of me
on dark January nights.

I swear there's nothing to love here,
the snow ground hard as sand
tumbling against the bricks.

It's how we get lost,
crossing this same floor over and again,
boxed in by a howling
we think we know
because we hear it.


I am writing one poem every day in 2016, and I am using the hashtag #365poems to document my progress.