' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' 'Til Daddy Comes Home(For Ruthie)

The wind talking with the voices of the trees as if a ventriloquist or playing now that discarded twisted trumpet etched in frost a long lonely note a hanging pub sign THE DOG & DUCK trying to break free unleased by the wind's fury turning yesterday's TIMES into many storied seagulls MAN. U'S LOSS! flying in my face making me swerve wobble almost topple oops off the bicycle threatening to become airborne with every gust unpegging a sheet from a clothsline losing its mind as if it created a ghost that chases me down the street with great gusto urging the garden gnomes to come alive inching up the crazy paving towards the house steadfast as a fortress before shattering their hopes of invasion scattering their gaily coloured shards I...I...I balancing on my bike each bone shaking each bolt & nut threatening to come loose on into the valley of the wind's breath into the teeth of the gale a hat & scarf running down the road all by themselves racing an inside-out umbrella the wind like a big bad wolf then turning a corner in my mind the unkind wind turning kind its hand on my behind goosing me along until I fall into my child's welcoming smile.