It’s blustery outside today. I look at the date – mid-August – and I’m worried that the spring winds are arriving early, as they did last year, and that this will be a permanent change. So many unpleasant permanent changes in the world in the last few years. I guess if it is, it is a small price to pay compared to the raging fires and searing heat I see elsewhere in the world.
The sound of the wind in the trees reminded me of this sentence, which I wrote a long time ago, and had forgotten about until recently. When I posted it previously, someone commented that it was a “found poem.” As it is the only type of poetry I could possibly write (as my month of poetry/experimenting with form posts on x365 Take Two attests), I thought I’d share it with you.
Gale force winds
don’t stop a lot
in this windy city,
except for long
hair styles and wrap
-around skirts.
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