Force 7

Force 7
the Atlantic
gives us a
clip round the ear

Everything loose
gets blown around
gates swing open
if not fastened shut

Blooms fall
Leaves fly
The calendar says summer
but who cares

Only the mercury
and the hours of daylight
show the season
and its passing

A bullying wind
from the Atlantic
the town sits quietly
amidst the onslaught

Awaiting quieter times
the return of the sun
the going away of the clouds
and the opening of another day