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.
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