Image for the poem And I called her a woman

And I called her a woman

The north wind is angry tonight.
It's a good night to drop a few rocks in your pockets
unless your heart is made of stone.

The way that dangerous voice
knocks around the concrete breezeways
makes me think she's a woman.

She's out there makin' threats,
pelting the walls with handfuls
of dead, winter leaves, and beating at my door.

Even the moon is in hiding,
but the street signs still cast their shadows...
Written by Kasai
Author's Note
Inspired by a windy night and all the broken hearts
that have been tossed out into it

(Artwork: Anca Cernoschi)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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