Robbie Q. Telfer


I know that the wind is a woman

And not only because of her seasonal fury

And not only because of her ability to efficiently arrange air travel

I know that the wind is a woman

Because of the way she envelops me

While remaining unseen

I know she is a she

Because of her work on dunes and drifts

Because of her imprint on mesas and mountains

     Not leaving her mark with an ejaculatory blast

          Blowing her legacy to pieces

But with the caress of hours and millennia

     Perhaps making an hourglass shape

          That you want to run your hand over

               Or at least fall asleep against

     Perhaps coaxing the waves to grind the sand

          We place inside our hourglasses

          To measure our hours

               With and without her

She fills the gaps left by our earthquakes

She shaves the severity of our comets

She will penetrate the thickest armor

With her patience

And I know her

Because I hear her voices calling

As if she lives near

     in my narrow places

She’s whistling to me

           to come outside and see her


     Of course she’s not there,

                    And I am becoming doubtful

                                   That her fingers can carry me anywhere

                                   That she is even whistling to me

                                   That I’ll ever get to hold

                                                  Anything but her silhouette


Euphemism Campus Box 5555 Illinois State University Normal, IL 61790