Back Talk

The wind is picking a fight tonight,

tapping the aluminum frame

against the siding

like knuckles on a door

that doesn't want to be opened.

I tried to hold it back

with a heavy bag of dirt,

but the rusted spring gave up,

snapping back to bite my heel

through the thin fabric of my sock.

The gray mesh is hanging loose

at the bottom corner,

a jagged metal hangnail

catching on the hem of my jeans

every time I try to leave.