Papers fly by, dust in your eyes,
It's a bad hair day.
Clouds speed by, through hazy skies,
It's very windy I must say.
Trash cans rolling down the street,
Trees losing their leaves.
Birds on the wing so very fleet,
Shingles flying off the eaves.
Better to be safe and snug at home,
Than risk flying projectiles.
From where I sit, I hear the wind moan,
I'll just talk to Rod McKuen for a while.
4/9/11 Alton Texas
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