The Wind Farmbreeds little breezes that roam and rustle
climb the fresh trees and hustle
'til delicate spring blooms jiggle
like bangles in the air
and there's cherry petal rain.
But the wind is really farming now
plowing up dust, flinging hail,
funneling sheds barns pickup trucks
roaring through whole towns,
uncovering root cellars where
frail humans cover their ears
clutch their children and
wait...
- Mar "Mistryel" Walker
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I am having a rhyme problem O dear. Can't believe I have come this far 29 days, 29 poems..... only one more to go....
PROMPT: find words from news paper headlines
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