I can hear the wind howling like an angry dog. I can hear the door creaking like a calling frog. Windows shake, dry branches rake across the flapping shutters. The air is moving, swirling, crying, whistling through the gutters. In my bed I lift my head and sing like the wind all around me: “Hello, halloo, what a hullaballoo!” If you can rage then I will, too— I dance like the wind all around me. “Hello, halloo, what a hullaballoo!” I sing like the wind all around me.
© Julie Thorndyke