Wind blowing loudly against the window of a cold bright morning
Straight from the sea, over white sand and through the laundry line
Sheets billowing, secured by pins placed by scoured red hands
Wind crashing through wild treetops on a dark February night
Hideous moanings and cracking wood
Falling trees and covers pulled over the head to silence the sounds
Wind pushing and rolling over a flock of pecking birds in a field of stubble
Rising and landing, rising and landing
they find their food where the wind takes them
Wind herding clouds of sheep against the blue
Scuttling leaves and squirrels hunched in the crook of a branch
A tight ball of fur and tail waiting and dozing while the blow passes by
Wind breaking, tearing down the tall and mighty,
Cleaning and disturbing stale, settled things,
Unstoppable, having its way wherever it goes
Sinking dreams and treasures
Clearing away the sands of time, exposing, revealing
Ancient ways and means forgotten, old, becoming new.
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