Feb 26, 2009

The vagrant wind

The whoosh of a wind as it swings past my ear
Whistling a tune, pleasant but unclear
A huge bag slung on its shoulder
The fuzzy fog trapped inside.

Hopping past the meadows
Ignoring the trees that beckon
Brushing the flowers with a touch
Scampering away merrily, grinning to everyone.

A tinge of mischief hidden beneath its folds
Spurts of giggles every now and then
Sprinting across as you look away
Sneaking away to the corner.

In the lands far and near,
As it explores what we so fear,
Rings a hollow laugh, a merry cheer
Left behind by the vagrant that swishes past.

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