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Dancing with Mr Wind

I worked alone today,

Nature theatre

even the cattle stayed shy,
the dog ran away,
the chickens sprinted into the barn
necks outstretched with the effort.

I had a jealous companion:
just the wind.
This is a mischievous male,
young in the season.
He’s been dancing on my deck,
rattling at my door,
whistling around my house
for a couple of days now.

Wont declare himself though:
gusting at night enough
to blow loose feed bags
to catch on fence wire.
He teases the birch branches
to test the yellowing leaves
for their constancy to timber.
Swelling and growling now
to make my roof sheets lurch
and clatter like fullfed fledglings
groaning for flight.

Corner of Sky

And this evening when I walk out,
he sits on the tumbledown dyke
sighing quietly
as if at something remembered.
Yet forty minutes later
greets me off the hill,
with a yearling’s ebullience
that hustles the cattle into
the shelter of the rocks,
where they watch uncertainly
for more of his tribe.

Twin guardians

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