Walking On A Blustery Day Poem by David Taylor

Don't you enjoy like me,
walking on a blustery day?
Wind whipping through your hair
leaning against an air brick wall,
watching swirls of lifeless leaves
animated by the breeze.
Branches that sway and weave
as the wind makes them bend with ease.

Don't you agree with me
the swirling, whirling air
racing from here to there
grabbing, grasping
raising, bending
pushing, holding; resting,
before it starts again,
is such a refreshing wind?

Letting it blow through your mind,
carrying away the cares,
making brand new shapes
of lifeless thoughts that gathered dust,
now blown clean by windy gusts.
All those dark moody clouds
carried far by sweeping air.

Just walking on a blustery day
letting the wind have its way;
not fighting it, but joining in,
as it dances; plays.
'You like I are free'
is what it seems to say to me,
as I just walk and play
on a very blustery day.