The Wind

The wind is wreaking havoc With the branches and the leaves. I wonder what will next come out That's hiding up its sleeves. The table cover on the porch, Supposedly secured, Is flapping like a wounded bird But still here, rest assured. The chairs, once stacked so nicely, Have just toppled on their backs, Quite unlike their normal posture, Like they're trying to relax. I am watching from the window As the bushes dance and sway. Think I'll stay inside a while Or I might get blown away!