Wind Advisory

 WIND ADVISORY

The chickens carried on

with what they knew to do, huddled

in the harbor of the henhouse

as the whole sky became a hawk

circling. Wood chips took flight

from the mulch pile to pepper the house’s

siding, loose shingles lifting

like tail feathers while a feed bag

scraped across the field with the neighbor,

out to bolt lock the shed door. This is 

no more, no less, than any other 

storm we prepare to repair from, 

identical, even, but for the brass 

set of wind chimes bought on a whim 

and hanging from the garden arch. 

We are offered little reason to believe 

the deluge will abate or change course, 

but littler reason still not to hope

that even the fury of its approach

might yet be harnessed and set ringing.