Not a Match
My spinner’s simply not a match
For when the wind is rough.
I reinforce its pole with stones
But that is not enough.
The ground is hard and rocky
So it’s tough to hammer in,
Though as soon as it’s erect,
The slightest breeze will make it spin.
I’m on the back porch writing
With the wind chime’s tinkling sound
When, with one big gust, that spinner
Tipped and fell upon the ground.
I’ll head outside and stand it up
And it will work, I trust -
At least until the next time
There’s a more insistent gust.
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