Prevailing Wind

The sound hums and thrums like
an atmospheric highway crowded
with desperate traffic but the traffic
in this winter forest is that of
dessicated fall foliage pried loose
from their stubborn perch on branches
of oak, beech and hornbeam unwilling
to part with their pale and withered
leaves, opposing the insistent wind.
The argument is won by neither,
the trees retaining what the wind,
despite ferocious determination,
cannot dislodge. From the dark canopy
of the denuded forest, tree trunks
the wind shakes and rattles against
one another as it roars its rage of
supreme domination chorus their
agony. The incessant mounting and 
alternately diminishing clatter and fury 
embraces the forest. High above, a 
flock of crook-winged gulls ride the 
wind currents, gliding and flapping 
with scarce effort, to disappear into 
a sky whose clouds have been 
shattered by prevailing winds.