A poem about the wind.

                                                   AT THE MERCY OF THE WIND

AT THE MERCY OF THE WIND;

The clouds stagger by,

The flowers bow their heads,

The trees dance and flirt,

As well as ladies skirts.

AT THE MERCY OF THE WIND;

Flags sound out their snappy voice,

Traffic lights swing and sway,

Balloons escape tiny fingers,

Garbage cans do “the roll.”

AT THE MERCY OF THE WIND;

Forest fires greedily glow and grow,

Homes give up their roofs and walls and windows and return to lonely piles of wood,

Backyard playgrounds disappear,

Life is swept up and tossed about and dropped into a vast chasm of destruction

AT THE MERCY OF THE WIND.

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