Mischief
My whirligigs are whirling
Since the wind has come to call
And my windsocks’ arms are twirling
Like they’re gearing for a brawl.
The temperature is dropping
Back to wintertime degrees
And the gusts will not be stopping
‘Til we all begin to freeze.
Mother Nature is enjoying
Making mischief these days; hence,
‘Tween the seasons we’ll be buoying
As she laughs at our expense.
Copyright © Ilene Bauer | Year Posted 2023
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