Through the glass

I turned my back to the room
the scene outside
through the glass
took me in
in the drear and gray
the clouds were in a hurry
too much like their
human counterparts
never really knowing what's
waiting down the path

through the glass
I watched the trees scratch
the sky in the dragging
turn of the earth
their limbs ebbed and flowed
too much like their
seaweed counterparts
never really knowing what's
waiting in the ensuing wave

through the glass
the tortuous wind echoed
in great gasps it thundered
as if tearing open a storm
and ripping a deluge out
from its belly
it whisked frozen dust across
shining pavement
below a breaking cloud-stuffed sky
the trees had scratched
and I wondered when this wind would end