The Roaring Wind

By Ethel Jacobson

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    The wind roars down

    From the mountaintops.

    It roars all night

    And never stops.

    It roars like a lion

    With an aching tooth,

    Like two bears fighting

    In a telephone booth,

    Like a TV western

    With lots of static,

    Like jet planes zooming

    Right through the attic.

    And it’s almost half

    As good for noise,

    Our mother says,

    As two small boys.

    Illustrated by Doug Roy