Windy Night
WINDY NIGHT
The landscape sings in cacophony.
Complaining loudly, creaking trees
Flex gnarled joints like old men's knees -
Far cry from melodious harmony.
Clouds go scudding over the moon.
No fan of the wind, the cat’s come indoors
Washing her face and licking her paws -
It’s probably going to rain soon.
Washing blows horizontal with wet flaps,
Snapping its salutes like a naval pennant
Or a newly promoted first lieutenant -
On the line it tangles twists and wraps.
Music of nature is sometimes dissonant,
Even more than a Stravinski recital.
Yet the sounds are alive, they are vital -
The clamour and din is Nature exultant.
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