John Greening

Wind

issue 13 July 2013

Invisible hand that jangles the lantern over the porch
and tells the leaves on the pond to imagine they are clippers
and wrenches the shed door , and makes leylandii lurch,

unnerving the cat, wobbling the elderly; that viciously clobbers
pedestrians at the corner, then snatches up bills and payslips
put out for recycling and juggles with them; that gibbers

and squeaks through gaps in your sealed units; that laughs as it swipes
her portfolio of art, the pantechnicon of his life’s work, in fits
when a cone skedaddles like a clown or turning Dalek wipes

the smile off its fierceness and swivels a death-ray that hits
your moped, your chimney, your safest nook, knocking over
five centuries’ peaceful growth. It is its own blitz-

krieg on the establishment. Respect it. Let it recover
equilibrium – be patient – let it blow itself out
and lie quietly, a champion featherweight, a winged lover.

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