Blowing Leaves

I raked a pile of leaves to my right, turned around and they blew out of sight. As I gathered with my rake, I realized that I made a mistake. The mighty wind was there to mock, any effort I made to block, the swirling fury on the ground rising, falling, as it blew around. Waiting patiently for the wind to stop, another pile of leaves decided to drop. What I picked up, blew away too, what in the world, was I to do. This certainly wasn't any fun, at this rate I'd never get done. Working quickly during a moment of rest, to the street I raked, with new found zest. The wind rose as I watched from my seat, the pile of leaves blew down the street.