How lonesome the Wind must feel Nights —
When people have put out the Lights
And everything that has an Inn
Closes the shutter and goes in —
How pompous the Wind must feel Noons
Stepping to incorporeal Tunes
Correcting errors of the sky
And clarifying scenery
How mighty the Wind must feel Morns
Encamping on a thousand dawns
Espousing each and spurning all
Then soaring to his Temple Tall —
This poem really is…well…nice. It’s really creative on telling how something we feel everyday would feel if it had feelings. Does it?