Today's Napowrimo prompt challenges the writer to write a short, rhyming poem including a weather phenomenon. Here's something like that, but without the rhymes.
When Wind met
the Neighborhood and
bent trees like stale hard pretzels-
snapping them, chewing with
his mouth open, and leaving
the crumbs behind-I don't
think he realized that his
little tantrum, his funhouse
feasting, would ruin the
weekend for the rest of Us.
All that line work and all that
heat. Vinegar in the milk.
Last week's groceries out for
the garbage crew to drink in
the aroma of spoil on a day
with just enough of a Breeze
to otherwise be considered
charming.
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