My Amy's Eyes

The wind lashes the rain on the windows so hard it's as if it's on both sides.

But no gentle breeze blown compares to the tempest behind my Amy's eyes.

The price a man, unthinking, pays is hardly worth the fun.

Everything I worked for – family, wife, my reputation – done.

The ruthless lizard in my brain hopes she won't kick me out,

But homelessness is well deserved. I leave, to leave no doubt

That I've realized, with her to have, it's wrong to others hold

and as I brave my penance-gale, I feel the air grow cold.

I leave the car, which, like the house, is settlement austere

For years of toil out of love I burned with bluster rare.

Soon the showers wash me through, a sin-bath from the skies.

I welcome half a dozen drops for each tear my Amy cries.

Along the road I see deer hunkered down together to keep warm.

A jet stream down from Canada is perched behind this storm.

It blows across the soupy skies and turns the rains to snow,

Each gusty flake a papercut. Across my face it blows.

My pace slows, feet drag unavailed. As my draught of life goes dry

I hope that no tears at my loss will cloud my Amy's eyes.