Winds moaning long and low,
crashing against the walls.
Wanting in, to get warm.
Whistling, lonesome calls.

Trees bent low, bowing down
meeting the ground, reaching
beyond it's limits; breaking limbs
Against windows screeching.

Leaves swirling on the ground,
miniture tornados; moving across
the ground. Twisting, turning,
falling up with a gentle toss.

Winds whistling thru cracks
in the door, beating on the house.
Moving debris at will.
Unspent energy, cats tearing thru the house.

Friends of a feather, caught
in mid-air; looking for a pocket.
Destinations, against the wind.
Soars down, rather just walk it!

by Joanne Smith-Hileman

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