After the wall passed by, the clouds moved over in a slow turn like the edges of a whirlpool.
Everything was so quiet, just the strong breeze could be heard. The bright green grass was an amazing contrast to the dark soggy trees and steel gray skies.
The birds were not flying; just clinging to the swaying branches of the oak tree, all pointed Southeast, winds at their tails.
and post notes and photos about your poem like Kevin Lawrence.