Can You Live Here?

Sound I'd never heard before,
Not in my fifty-five years,
Big wind literally pulsing
Down a long wooded canyon,
An increasingly panicked
Heartbeat ahead of a storm,
A chopper rotor pressure

Making my ears throb, head hurt,
A kind of whooshing hammer.
Earlier, a mountain goat
Had run through the scene. Since then,
An hour of the creek rushing
Downhill, but nothing until
That wind I wanted to mean.