The Wind by Jacob C. Johnson

Leaves rustle Trees sway
No birds in the sky to speak of

The clouds float overhead
As if they were a river Turned upside-down

As the woman walks
Her hair feathers around her face

The man's tie
Snakes around his neck

No one uses their umbrella
For fear it will be turned inside-out

The little boy Chases his hat
As it cartwheels across the grass

Strolling by in a skirt
The young lady keeps a cautious hand at the hem

Waves slither through
Up and over the golden fields of grain

The flowers wilt
As they are bent in half

Oak pods helicopter themselves
From the branches to the ground

The parked truck driver positions himself just right
To reap the benefits on this sweltering day

The river of clouds part
Just for a moment

The sun peeks through
Then gets shut back out

The young boys grab handfuls of dirt
Just to throw it in the air

With a shovel in hand the firefighter struggles
To stay ahead of the flames

The eagle glides effortlessly
Floating in search of who's next

And Old Glory stands straight out from her pole
Proving she is strong, free, and here to stay