The chosen few will pass this night of gales
floating in the intimacy of friends and fine ideas.
While we who are confined to fixed positions
shake as if the wind might impale us
on the sharp spears of our lives.
We whisper as though our voices
will bring the walls down on our naked heads.
We sit behind closed windows, bolted doors,
feeling unprotected as rain shatters against the roof.
The weight of night, the weight of all nights
pales in comparison to this leaden darkness
pressing against our eyes.
The brilliant dawn is beyond our ken.