Goosed, snaked,
by the wicked, wayward winds
flickering her tongue licks wild
a naturally riled child—
skin easily discarded.
Wisps worm
around the trees, watch them squirm,
their innocence is defiled.
Her tail whips a warning, mild,
hastily disregarded.
Goosed, snaked,
on the ground she paws and rapes
ev’rything on virgin soil.
A tornado, she winds, toils,
and from life things are parted.
Vamoose!
She cleans the slate, gives you scat!
Without imagination,
wind’s such an aggravation ...
and we ‘think’ her retarded.
Goosed, snaked,
she soothes us with breezes;
keeps her true nature within.
Only then can she fool men …
it’s we whom she’s outsmarted.
Thin air …
led by wicked, wayward winds.