Wind

Great pine tree shimmying
in the wind, which
has a lot to say, but
nothing good.

The wind has the house
surrounded;
I go outside, not with my
hands up, but
in my pockets.

A frightful wind persists–
persists in being frightful.
Whips itself to indignation.
A high agitation.
A low growl.
Wou wou.
Wow wow.

Wayne F. Burke's poetry has been widely published online and in print (including in Dissident Voice). He is the author of eight published full-length poetry collections -- most recently BLACK SUMMER, 2021, Spartan Press. He lives in Vermont (USA). Read other articles by Wayne F..