Windy Day

Windy Day

Driven inside, the cats hunker down

And sleep their peaceful dreams

In baskets by the stove

Unconcerned by noises in the chimney

And gentle soot-falls gathered in the grate

Every door blow-battered

Gust-clattered windows

Buffeted and blown by the gale outside

Blasting the hedges sideways in its fury

Tattoo-beating spurts of rain

Like gravel against the panes

Heavy water droplets driven every which way

Casements banging in the frames

And, above all else

The moaning and groaning

Howling and whistling

Of the storm venting its fury

Against the brick-work of the house

I think I feel the chimneys shaking

Their prominent stacks exposed

At the highest levels of the air

And then the roof-tiles singing

In nailed and slated resistance

To this unwarranted onslaught

Upon their serried ranks

By clinging fast to hold the line

And keep the house together

Unsheltered, the flowers forced flat

Leaning down against the soaking ground

Bushes and trees bending backwards

Revealing the paler underside of leaves

Pressed hard against the creaking fences

And down the lane, new rivers run their courses

Silt and sand driven from out the fields

Beneath the air-borne fusillade

Of twigs and leaves, and scraps of paper

Swept far into the distance

Beneath the blackened skies

 Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2013