What comes next?
Angry winds on Monday's wrecks.
Blowing clear across these idle doors.
Lifting leaves, they gently soar.
Pulling from warmth and springs chill.
Chasing silloute clouds, shadows across fields.
Snap and break.
These tree's can relate.
Still strong after weight of snow.
Another limb falls to the floor so slow.
Tree's and grass fight for position.
Each looking for seasonal recognition.
Green growth being blown all around.
Angry winds bring angry sounds.
Crashing grapevines high above.
Swing like ropes, no lost love.
Angry winds so selfish, not a care.
Calmer tomorrow with damage to share.
But today and tonight it whips with sin.
Such angry, angry, angry winds.
Gulliver Gimble
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/angry-winds/
