The Noisy Whirlwind

It was one of those days, hot, still and far away.
Following the desert pavement, beckond on, futher
and farther from the where I've been to never been.
I stopped to rest in the shade of a palo verde tree.
Blue sky, white puff ball clouds, very little breeze.
I watched the redtail hawk survey his domain from
the large saguaro. A coyote on some quest passed by
like an arrow straight to somewhere. It was quiet,
soothing, a sigh, a deep breath or two, I dozed off.
But! I awoke, to! What sounded like a (well no words for it),
Ok! a big noise, moving toward me like a freight train
loosing its cargo of tin cans.
Whats happening? Am I awake? Bad dream?
Laughter, smile, I'm safe, its a whirlwind
That just picked up a bunch of old rusty tin
cans from an old prospectors dump. What a clamor.
I thought some day I will write a poem about
That noisy whirlwind, maybe next year.