Ode to the WInd

The wind whips around corners unexpectedly,
Digs gnarled fingers under thick coats.
It seizes exposed limbs and snaps its jaws,
Pinching ears and aiming for throats.
It mysteriously appears at inconvenient times,
And yet lies dormant in the summer’s heat.
It turns up when no one has called
And sweeps poor passersby off their feet.

The wind attacks perfectly styled hair
In a merciless attempt to tangle strands.
It does its best to pull important papers far away
While tossing debris with its other hand.
It misleads thrown objects during their flight
And tears missing pet posters down.
It sucks moisture from unshielded eyes,
Only to drag the droplets haphazardly around.

The wind sets clever traps for its victims
By effortlessly surpassing vapor’s evanescence.
It will vanish quicker even than it came
To return full throttle with mocking effervescence.
It is stuck in an everlasting sour mood
And seeks to take its anger out on you.
For it is the only child of quarreling cold and hot air,
Left to its own devices and nothing to do.

The wind produces comfort for fevered brows,
Takes plastic bags for complimentary rides on its wings.
It tugs sailors to their desired destination
And brings out the life in most everything.
It may delight in childishly in mischief
And harbor a passion for fanning the meanest fires,
Yet in something that runs so gleefully free
There are always qualities to be admired.



Feedback would be cool :]