Not a Match

My spinner’s simply not a match 

For when the wind is rough.

I reinforce its pole with stones 

But that is not enough.

The ground is hard and rocky

So it’s tough to hammer in,

Though as soon as it’s erect,

The slightest breeze will make it spin.

I’m on the back porch writing

With the wind chime’s tinkling sound

When, with one big gust, that spinner

Tipped and fell upon the ground.

I’ll head outside and stand it up

And it will work, I trust -

At least until the next time

There’s a more insistent gust.