Roaring in rustling and
Tossing trees,
Wailing and moaning
In whipping wires.
A strident, insistent,
Car alarm.
An upset bin, with
Unwanted plastics…
Scraping,
Scratching,
Tumbling,
Chasing along the road.
Aggrieved air
With attitude.
Roaring in rustling and
Tossing trees,
Wailing and moaning
In whipping wires.
A strident, insistent,
Car alarm.
An upset bin, with
Unwanted plastics…
Scraping,
Scratching,
Tumbling,
Chasing along the road.
Aggrieved air
With attitude.
Mick Canning 
It certainly is that way at the moment!
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Very!
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I love to walk in a bit of a wind storm, Mick. There is something amazing about its freedom and wildness. Great poem.
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Thanks, Robbie. I tend to agree as long as I’m wearing the right clothes!
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Stay safe! Sounds dangerous out there.
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Not dangerous, perhaps, but certainly…wild and windy!
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It may sound weird, but I love such weather 😀
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Not weird at all, Maniparna. So do I.
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Great 😀
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It has been like that here in NYC that past two days
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Your imagery captures the wild feeling wind can bring. Will follow, thanks for following mine.
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Thanks, Dave. Dave Ply drew my attention to yours, so I went and had a look.
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… and as I read this, the sound effects outside my window mirror the words.
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I do my best to supply the complete package, Dave!
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