The Wind Blows Hard
A
Anil Kumar Panda
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The wind blows hard
Rattling the window panes
Toppling the vases and uprooting
Trees and plants blocking roads
The wind comes from the west
Draped in an orange garb
Like that of a sage in a rage
It takes away electric wires from
Roofs throwing towns into darkness
The wind is not seen when it comes
It does not knock the doors
The sky turns into pale dark
And the sound comes stealthily
Then comes the sound of street dogs
Barking at nowhere in panic
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