Devil Winds

by Tamara Madison

Before shopping malls
before golf courses
before paved roads
covered the sloping dunes,

winds like these lifted sand
into the air
and it took days
to settle,
left the desert sky
to make
a week-long shift from grey
to taupe, then tan, then beige,
before drifting back
to blue.

When those winds tossed your hair
it was not a caress, but a reminder:

they could bring standsting to the eye,
pitt a windshield to uselessness,
rip a roof from a building.

Here along the coast,
winds like these
fly in from the desert
bringing flames,
smoke,
flying ash.

When these winds toss your hair,
it is not a caress;
it’s an omen.