Wind Storm

A poem by William Ward

Wind Storm The Santa Anas took over
the dumpster yesterday,
debris swirling till it looked
like an oversized corn popper,
sending plastic bags flopping
into the woods like clumsy birds,
snagging cactus spines and bear grass,
then plastering themselves on scrub oak
and manzanita where they flapped
and waved at styrofoam peanuts
that sped past like happy inmates
at a jail break. A pizza box
spazzed down the road
then found its edge and rolled
like a riderless unicycle
till it hit a rock,
flew into a tree,
and slid slowly to the ground
like Wile E. Coyote at the tail end
of a Road Runner cartoon.
– William Ward