What the Wind Says

Woke early. Couldn't fall back to sleep.

The sound kept happening—metallic, sharp,

regular like someone trying to reach

me, like morse code in the dark.

A flag hitting a pole somewhere.

The neighbor's flag snapping in the air

like it had something to say,

like a message I couldn't turn away.

I lay there. Couldn't unhear it.

The rhythm kept changing—fast then slow,

one sharp hit then silence, then another.

Like breath. Like a warning. Like

something alive out there trying to tell

me something.

I got up. Went to the window.

Nothing there but the sound,

getting louder, or maybe I was

just listening now. Maybe

I'd been hearing it all along

and only this morning

did I finally have to pay attention.

The flag kept hitting.

I couldn't make it stop.

I couldn't unhear it.