The wind blew this morning
Trumpeting a chaotic melody
It savaged loudly against the walls
And danced through the electrical lines
Blinking the lights inside the building
As it toyed with our emotions.
A shriveled old man stood smoking
Against the wall of the Laundromat
Cursing in a loud and angry voice.
But the voice could not be heard-
The words were torn away
Like the smoke that jettisoned
From between his chapped lips.
Next door to the Laundromat
Gamblers scurried in and out of the casino-
Losers, hands jammed deep into their pockets,
Heads bent over like unsuccessful hunters,
Returning home with nothing for the pot.
The sole winner clutched his money as if
The unseen force would rip it from his hands.
On a row of hills, a couple of miles away,
The windmills had stopped turning-
Too much wind for them today.
The lights flickered once again
Then blinked out as the line between us
And the power plant snapped.
The winners at the casino
Suddenly stopped winning and
The losers stopped losing,
The machines in the Laundromat
Stopped churning their loads-
Only the man against the wall outside
Continued, smoking and cursing
While the roaring in our ears
Reminded us of a power
We constantly challenge
With winning expectations.
