The Wind

The wind is wreaking havoc
With the branches and the leaves.
I wonder what will next come out
That's hiding up its sleeves.

The table cover on the porch,
Supposedly secured,
Is flapping like a wounded bird
But still here, rest assured.

The chairs, once stacked so nicely,
Have just toppled on their backs,
Quite unlike their normal posture,
Like they're trying to relax.

I am watching from the window
As the bushes dance and sway.
Think I'll stay inside a while
Or I might get blown away!