My windsocks flutter in the breeze,
Their streamers catching in the trees.
I love the way they bop and dance
When given even half a chance.
And even when the winds don’t blow,
I like the way they look, although
Their rainbow hues don’t represent
Much more than what is evident -
A subtle sign of light and cheer
To show that people living here
Delight in letting windsocks fly,
Which city living must deny.
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