Wind (2)

I was inspired to write this poem after freeing the poor laundry today. I even got a picture!

Spring Winds

by Susan Sink


The wind is torturing the laundry.
Shirts grip the line with their long sleeves,
their wrists bruised by the brutal pins,
and I have to pry the traumatized pant legs
from the pole. The basket is gone.

The wind is harassing my young tomato plants,
newly freed from their pots, staked and caged,
where for two days they breathed the sun
and drank the generous sprinkler showers.

The trees whine the wind’s loud complaint.
Why so angry? You have not missed a thing;
it is all beginning. Slow down, see how the ducklings
and their mother join the turtle on the log, peacefully.