I don't know how the wind can blow all day and not get tired.
It must be driven by some furious witch
Whose lover spurned her
Over a football game,
Or someone at the mall who told her she was getting fat.
Witches are like that.

Alas, the wind has died at dusk,
And no one mourned,
But several peeked out to see
If it was truly dead.

We can thank god for this
Catastrophe averted.
He must have gone and visited
The witch and somehow assured her
That her beauty and her style we're quite intact.
For I saw her smile,
Just as the sun had begun to set.

-jenn