The Roaring Wind

By Ethel Jacobson

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