The Wind

The February full moon stirred A wintery blustering Wind that roared through the neighborhood Like an out-of-control freight train. The stark, naked trees swayed wildly In a ceremonial dance While low-growing tree branches touched Intermittently the ground In swift, servile genuflections. Then for an abbreviated Lull, an eerie silence prevailed Within this moonlit quietude Until the winds bellowing voice Was heard echoing its return.