If Anger Were a Place

If Anger Were a Place

For years you walked in the wind,

learned to lean forward,

head down,

trained yourself to narrow your eyes.

One day the wind stopped.

You waited.

When the wind didn’t resume,

you became the furious one.

You felt way too old

to learn to walk in stillness

and livid that you spent your life

in a windy place

although you chose it.