Is it sentient

Is it sentient

Does it have intention

Whistling as it blows

A tuneless drone

High pitched as it

Dances in the belfry

Orchestrating echoes

Finding mischief

In the cracks between

Roof tiles

Loosening ties

On waterproofed

Hay Wains

Screaming its delight

As branches break

Trees fall

Laughing as latches rattle

Windows shake

Children quake

Squealing down

Narrow chimney flues

Scattering sparks

Squeezing through drains

Roaring like

A race between steam trains

Lifting grates

Women’s skirts

Skipping stones

Hurling dirt

Blowing umbrellas

In the park

Turning them inside out

What larks

Falling away

In the doldrums

Letting old ships drift

Before tearing the sea

Into fragile cliffs

Piling snow into

Deepening drifts

Does it know

Which way it is going

To blow

When the time comes

Does it inhale

To imprison

Or exhale

To let go.