The WIND

The wind lazily yawned,
In the sloe eyes looked the night
Wings flapping transparent
And flew – time workers.

So howled like a beast of prey,
Pushing the trees in Boca
And threw the blanket of leaves in the yard,
Rustled nights steps.

So enjoyed his antics,
Someone in the window even knocked
Good was not of such “miracles”,
Scarecrows in the sky the stars cry.

Struck up a monotonous song,
Sometimes a dream he was frightened,
Crashed on the concrete wall,
Because suddenly do not fit