Poem: Update on The Breeze & I

Listening to Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers on a Moanin’ night. The way the wind blows, who knows what’s next. I take myself to bed – after just one drink. (That was easy!) I belong in bed, just as the wind belongs outside. There is a mutual respect at work, and we let that be. We generally keep out of each other’s business. I admire the wind’s strength. …