The wind

Gustery, blustery, bullying wind
You’re no fun to run or race with
Kicking up sand right into my face
Knocking me around; I can’t keep pace!
The birds are struggling as they fly by
Searching a spot where they can alight
But the trees all seem to be having a ball
Swaying and dancing and singing along
They creek and moan and shake all their limbs
The trees seem to love to dance in the wind
I guess that I’ve been thinking about it wrong
I mean, after all… the bugs are all gone!

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