Resting after coming back
from a mind-numbing time:
hoeing and fencing off the field,
she heard the doors bang and squeak,
she heard the doors sulk and shudder.
By virtue of the force of the whirlwind,
paper and leaves soared, sped in the wind,
for the wild whirlwind has a terrible, tumultuous
tendency of stirring up things, of tossing, tucking
away: cash, clothes, belongings, books and stillness.
The whirlwind comes to the party with a host of terrors,
their mission is to stir up emotions ,plunge populations
into disquiet, disharmony, destruction and despondency;
the wild whirlwind circled around mom’s yard with a fury
that left in its trail an ecological and mental turbulence.
Mom’s heart stampeded as she caught sight
of her prized garments lose their clasp of the washing line,
as they somersaulted, protested and plummeted away,
while her blankets and sheets were butted by invisible blows,
by dust and dirt; still the wild whirlwind waned and chilled.
