There was a whirlwind at my feet,
thought I’d follow
him down the street.
This could quite well have been a friend.
He frolicked blithely at my side –
gum wrappers and milk cartons glide.
(I’d never seen the street so clean.)
I met him at the “Side Walk’s End”
where the street makes a “Shell-shaped bend”
That was years ago in San Jose. He’d whip right up
make a big fuss, cuddle my legs
whirling the dust.
We’d stroll once a week
down 4th to main.
I hope by now
He’s a wild
I actually did meet this whirlwind in San Jose in 1966. I have been trying to draw a picture of him, but I’m having trouble with the milk cartons.
He came to mind in Lafayette in 1986 when raising my three children. I needed his help badly.
I am not sure why I think of him as he. I am not certain if whirlwinds have gender. Websters defines a whirlwind as a “small windstorm of rapidly rotating air” I guess that’s fairly obvious.
I suppose I should change the last lines to:
We’d stroll one a week to down 4th to Vallejo,
I hope by now he’s a wild Tornado.
He has been a hurricane for so long I can’t bear to change him. I do believe hurricanes are also rotating.
Yup, that’s correct.
A hurricane is defined as “a violent, tropical, cyclonic storm of the western North Atlantic.”
I am carefully avoiding the lengthy itemized differing definitions because this one suits my purpose, and I probably will not convert my whirlwind from a hurricane to a tornado.
And you, my dear reader, are privy to the agonizing lengths I have taken to publish this very sophisticated contribution to literature.