Windy Midnight Linen

The wind takes me in waves
down sidewalks of the living
rooms into windows of lives we see
streetside survival in the eyes of hungry love.
It swooshes my cigarette smoke
into an S of a cloud of a fog
inching closer to the ground as
night falls
on the streets      in sheets
like midnight linen

Cover us. Protect us.
our hair, the strands
wildly splaying
flailing arms of firecrackers
spread out to rest
on the underside
of a kind
of bedding
only you can provide