The wind tugged
Petulantly
Bored with butts
Tossed aside
Fag ends of anxiety and tedium
Ground with into the ground
It pulled at me
Grasping dry and grimy
To see if it could bully me
But eyes gritty
From too much technology
I slip away
She scurries past
Shield of frozen pizza
Held to her breast
McCain’s double cheese topping
Double strength cardboard
Protector against harassing wind
The pigeon, scabby
Sky rat, grown tired
Of flight
Plumps its feathers
Settled for the footpath
Hoping the wind wouldn’t see
An Irish lad walking, weary from
Eight hours of sun
With no respite of cloud or rain
Assures his mammy he’s fine
Repeating himself while the wind
Flings his words aside
Describes the scene so well I feel like I am there 🙂
Thanks Yolanda, hope your week is going well and work is not intruding on your enjoyment of your grand-daughter!