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.

[illustration] Illustrated by Doug Roy