Prevailing Winds

Every day the increasing winds
make themselves known.
Their whistling in the trees I see
seem to have grown
stronger in intensity,
bolder everyday.
And I wonder what the flowers think
that are blooming this month of May?

Their little colorful heads
try to hold their ground.
But the winds are fiercly blowing
and their heads are turned around.
They lean towards the left first
and then towards the right.
Then something magical happens.
It becomes night.

It's like someone waved a wand
and made the winds cease.
Now those delicate flowers of May
finally feel at peace.
But peace will be short-lasting
for the winds will come again.
I know this wind has got to stop.
The flowers are asking when?

poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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