Poem #14 A Blustery Day


The breeze slapped against my scalp today

Reminding me that March means winds.

The flag above the village hall hung on,

Flailing in the freshening gusts, as a field

Of greens rippled and swayed to a muted music.

Shrubs were shaken awake from sunny slumbers,

And the fast gathered clouds teased from time to time

With a peek-a-boo of blue fragments.

The only kites in the sky were the red variety;

High and mighty, gliding and circling;

Hunting and calling with haunting whistles.


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