Garden Gate on a Windy Night

This swinging gate’s not helping much.
From your shoulders you’re behind shoved
Further out, while the gate itself
Slaps you back in the neglected

Garden, and here you are, certain
Kind of not-work-work around you,
Along with the sense that you need
To be more clearly meaningful,

Yet also letting the world’s cape
Finally slide off your shoulders.
The one you want’s the nothing much
That’s more than ready for nothing.

You need to work on your timing—
Hang back when the end wind’s strongest,
And then rally to make a dash
Home as life slams shut behind you.