The wind knows where I live
A polythene bag blew my way today,
Came tumbling along in a very strange way,
And there your name on a little tag,
Your telephone number, could I ring you back?
A coincidence, so some might think,
But why would the wind know where I live?
And why would it know that at half past three,
I'd be lazing about on a sunny beach?
The sun was high and the day was hot,
I'd just slipped off my see-through socks,
When a gust of wind from where I don’t know,
Wrapped your name and number around my toe.
© Joseph G Dawson
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