Wind

In my mind,
far past
and at my back,
a door hangs empty
inviting a look,
a step inside–
once breathless
leaden days
of solitude
with family, illusion
then or now
most likely both.

Honey was never
better after all,
vinegar no less
necessary, I decided
we shall remain
strangers, nudge
the door a little
shut with delirious
wind in my ears
to silence ghosts
every night–
I look out over ocean
with unruly license
of drunken release
watching the air
take shape.