we blow through

sitting pampered in warm houses of comfort we wonder how others could take our spot. this is mine, not yours to enjoy. the light ,the food,the hot bath on cold breezy nights of a long day’s work. My money bought this thing so grand, my tires were imported from Italy. The vintage of my wine, goes in rhyme with my tie. the silk one that turned socialites heads as i tucked it away from the bourbon bon bons so rare and tender. my yacht tied up, readied for a sunday cruise brunch on high. then,Nature decides to throw out a life deal reminder….. winds toss my world into the air,in the ditch,over fences,ripped. are they yours or mine? Hearts reach out now,once so out of touch with other’s heads, the ones tilted up with noses following. Tides pulled out, then pushed into and over,children tuck under the covers, cling to their mothers, shaking the comfort out from all others.. humbling the bold, numbing us all. Helpers reach out. take hold of the broom, brush out the water, pick up the pieces, sweeping the yard splattered with limbs, leaves, and moss from up high. Never think it can’t all be gone. stuff goes away, yet human need for each other… remains. remember. we matter to each other, for the short time, we “blow” through. we really …do. tomorrow remember this too.