Munchkin Land Here

Kansas winds are blowing the crows out of the trees I watch them hang on by the edge of their beaks Give up! I yell, but they persist, so they might be ravens. Poe knows them better than I do. I am in awe though. My house might get blown to Oz today; do I stay or go? Do I run for a ditch or hold on to the floor under a bed? I hear a witch cackle as the house begins to spin. Munchkin land, here I come!