The wind picked up
Early this evening
Angry like a tone deaf frustrated cantor
Leaves were swept
Down the sidewalks and streets
Giving the illusion that this town cares
About appearances
Except for the tattle-telling trash
That's been plastered on the fences
That sound, loud like a high-ballin' Tractor-Trailer
Filling the air
As the zephyrs and gusts
Burst through the aether
Slightly tornadic in their efforts
To uproot trees and shrubs
Yet not nearly potent enough
To cause much damage
Failing to reach cyclonical relevance
Though the effort did
Rattle a few windows
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