Queen Nor'wester

Queen Nor’wester

She starts small

Tousling the hair of rugby children on a Thursday afternoon

Flinging washing onto the drive, pegs strewn like grass clippings

Bustling leaves off mazes of autumn vines
Kissing ponds into lipsticked white horses

In the evening she shows her teeth

Whipping through macrocarpa hedges

Her tail lashing trampolines to death

Her hot breath dehydrating pasture to stone and dust
She dances in stilettos on the corrugated iron roof

Come twilight she inhales

Ready for the big one

Now she opens her mouth and roars

Shaking sheds from their foundations

Pulling gates out of the farmer’s hand

Yanking trees by their roots to play pick up sticks
Her sharp fangs bite through powerlines

She is the firestarter
Supreme Ruler of the plains

Queen of the Northwest