the wind says fuck it & settles down,
buys a little house with a nice yard, a
modest car, a Ford, maybe, a boat it
keeps on the lake near town until one
day the sun shows up exasperated,
saying what are you doing?, the clouds
in tow & whinging as they do & the
wind shrugs & says you told me to go
& the clouds start crying & the sun
says now look what you’ve done & the
wind says not my clouds, not my
rainstorm & blows the door shut
& returns to the bath