When the wind blows wild,
Hat held down while Hound's ears flap,
Frenzied gusts urge us into motion,
It's drag or be dragged.
Can't we walk all one pace?
"Not I," says the big Beagle.
"Not I," says the small Beagle.
"Not I," says the fluffy Badger.
"Not I," says me.
We'll just take turns being
The dragger and the draggees.
This post was inspired by prompt # 2 at Mama's Losin' It!