There is a wildness
There is a wildness
In the wind
A desperation
In its swirling
Tearing hunt
For loose things
To lift up
Leaves thrown high
The hems of summer skirts
Cause concern
But caught in time
Bring a smile
To passing strangers
There is no danger
Other than loose tiles
Lethal shards
Splintering on impact
Expensive cars
With exposed bodywork
Edge away from the
Overhang of gutters
An old man
Coughs and splutters
Swallowing his pride
Along with his tea
At the sight
Of bare skin
As cyclists dodge
Falling wheelie bins
The tempest blows
A dream away
A poor man dozing
In a doorway
Leading to the library
Believed he saw a Unicorn
His head full of noise
And the taunts
Of little boys
Dry stalks
From an old thatch
Can pierce
A steel drum
A paper cup
Will not stand up
So much for outside
Seating
As on the inside
Diners keep on eating
And the wind subsides
Dissipating
Among the tables
Holding stable
With a fold of cardboard
And the weight
Of an all day breakfast
Special
Sitting in the
Fulness of a pregnant
Mummy’s tummy
Oh wonder
The revels
Will soon be over
There will be
Conclusion
To the confusion
Of this madcap day
And like the wind
It will ‘away’.