Windy Winter Nights

A young boy's imagination can be his friend or his antagonistic teaser.  I slept in an upstairs room that was a solice sometimes, but the souce of nightmares if the imagination took over.


                                                               The wind would sometime
                                                                wake me up when it rattled
                                                                     my bedroom window at night.
                                                                The trees were at least
                                                                 a half an acre from the house,
                                                                      so they couldn't stand guard against it.
                                                                 Winter nights were the worst
                                                                  for snow lay on top of  the grasses
                                                                      that may have stood tall enough
                                                                  in summer to grab the heels
                                                                  of a racing wind, and slow
                                                                       it down before getting to the window.
                                                                  If I couldn't get back to sleep,    
                                                                  I'd imagine the guests that the wind
                                                                       was asking me to let inside.
                                                                   Most of them I would make pleasant,
                                                                   Because I didn't want nightmares to take
                                                                       over if I drifted back to sleep.