Strong Winds From the North

Small birds fall from their songs. Sticks fly up invisible chimneys. A strong wind unearths the stringy and unlatched, in the ruptured earth, makeshift mouths gawp and gape. Whoever has a quiet lamp, takes shelter from the helter-skelter, for the graveyard owls are loose, their feathers are flared and fly above the clouting forest as it whips back and forth. A north wind remodels a cringing landscape. We were warned, the sky was read and foretold. A pretty girl spoke ugly words but we are distracted by cute. Then of a sudden the sky erupted, fell apart, while we were changing channels to find a place of sunny smiles.