About Life
Ages: 9-10
The War of the Wind
Zielle S.

I stood. Listening to the wind. It howled, just like a barricade of war planes flying through. My fingers are so numb, I can barely type. I wrote this on my notebook.

The trees bent from side to side. I was amazed at the strong wind. The garage door bobbed up and down. The washing line spun, the daisies danced. I ran to the steps. I hung onto the railing, the wind pushing, forcing me forward. I wondered where the wind was heading so fast. Not much like A gentleman, huh? Ready to push a lady out of it's way.

Maybe they were headed to war? I think it was heading North, and East. It seemed like the troops of wind were never running out.

I ran down the steps. I wondered if it was true. True that there were little people down there, stirring the grass, making war. The clouds seemed to come crashing down on me, but never reached, like something was holding it from doing so. I think the war had started now, because I heard a boom, and just before that, a big gust passed. May be it was their backup.

The pages I wrote on flapped, like dog ears exposed in the wind. My hair tickled my chin. The wooden swing swung, and a rope dangled restlessly from the swaying tree.

The spinning wheels spun. Their colors mixed together brightly. If your wind is howling, don't miss the chance to see it, to feel it, to write a bout, or to make a poem. Thanks God for this chance!
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