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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #2064730
All about heavy winds.
I shall now endeavor, as best I can, to tell you about heavy winds,
those weighty winter gusts, those laden drafts prevailing at will.
And there’s nothing special about winter for my telling--I choose it,
simply, because it is apropos to this revelation.  But I could as well
chose autumn, or some other season, as I have met heavy winds
during those times--allow me to share with you.

You would not think that something which is not seen could hinder,
could slap and strike, or assume an unpleasant shape as to oppress.
Yet heavy winds do, more often than not, and they often do without
regret and with indifference; such is the peculiar dichotomy here,
that of an ethereal something labeled as heavy--but it is a truth
nonetheless, as when flags are tattered, when birch trees are felled,
and, in some cases, when metal roofs are peeled off multi-story
structures.  Heavy winds sometimes accompany well-defined storms;
other times they do not.  Herein they are rogues, arising on their own
in deserts, on the plains, atop high plateaus or even
within the confines of the city.

Long ago we spoke of the wind as the Hawk, (and when I say we,
I am referring to other soldiers who served).  This was in a cold place,
a place known for groundhogs and Minuteman missiles.  The Hawk
could be heavy at times, as was his want.  In that regard, he would
show no remorse, he would show no mercy--no, he was ice-white
in gust and gale, as gust and gale go for such an air denizen. 
To be sure, he was heavy in chill--that which is called wind-chill.
If one was careless, his skin could freeze in less than a minute.
To that end, the Hawk was heavy, indeed.

Artful are these heavy winds, at times; art being subjective, of course.
Yet sand dunes in the desert often look designed.  Deceptions, here
and there, the wrong impression, illusion or Earth’s slight of hand.
Yet slight they are not, these heavy winds, that sometimes lay in
wait for planes  (wind sheer it is called), or dispatch the surge
of oceans vast to commandeer the coast, to claim some
property much too close, or lance a highway in half.

Degrees of heaviness abide, not only here on Earth, but elsewhere,
on other worlds, even on the sun.  The solar wind confirms its weightiness.
Yet luckily we are protected from such a heavy wind.  Good old Earth’s
magnetic field--that is pretty heavy, too.  How marvelous this universe!
But as to winds, Neptune holds the record for the fastest winds
known, at about thirteen hundred miles per hour. 
We are talking heavy winds.


40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp Co-Winner
11-7-15

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