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The life and times of a Zephyr - Max McNaughtan

It was born above a gas station,
It first clothed itself in the scents of diesel and gasoline,
It was quick to discard them.

It made a young lady - only three months older than itself- quite angry,
For it had thrown up dust,
And dirtied the little girl's rosy cheeks.

It caught a balloon and made off with it,
Feeling it was immature the wind threw the balloon away,
And picked up some leaves as a replacement.

It kicked sand into the face of a young boy,
To celebrate the beginning,
Of its teenage years.

It whipped at the water's edge,
But the deep blues disconcerted the wind,
So it left.

It played with the hair of a couple falling in love,
It almost knocked the hat off the head of the officer,
Who had come to arrest the younger man for fraud.

It passed the house of a fellow who was cheating at Monopoly,
Two blocks down it passed another house,
Where the man's wife was doing something much the same.

It tickled the whiskers of a wrinkly old man,
Who was preoccupied with wondering,
where all that time had gone.

It stole a look at the sun,
And quickly looked away,
But it was happy to have seen it.

It snuck through an open window,
And made a dying woman smile,
To have felt the breeze one last time

It hit a hospice wall,
It began to slow down,
It became still.

It had no mouth,
And yet it smiled,
Glad to have lived.

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