The Wind Poem by Titus Keya Omwaka

Trees bend to let you pass
Why do you do things in a fuss?
You blew rain-carrying clouds away.
Now the farmers are stranded
And short-handed
Tears dangle from their eyes
When they look at the dry land
Why is it so difficult for you to understand?

The octogenarian roof
Is proof
Of your mischief
Now he sleeps near the office of the chief

That lady you shamed
I will not have her named
You blew her dress up
Leaving her exposed
Extremely embarrassed