The wind came tap, tap, tapping at my door,
Infiltrating through gaps in the window frames and under the doors,
Wrapping me in a shawl of cold air.
It blew sheets of rain at my windows,
And hail at the glass.
Green refuse bags rolled like tumbleweed down the drive,
Bins played dead in its wake,
It came from the West but is now taunting us from the North,
blowing snow and havoc before it.
No comments:
Post a Comment