Blow wind, blow

The wind is roaring through the trees,
Branches straining
Their leaves taking flight.
I've retreated to indoors. 
Perhaps, we should invite these squalls
To blow through the scattered thoughts
That lie, unchallenged,
Rising, unbidden,
To taunt the day
With the struggles of yesterday.
Blow wind,
Blow.
Let the mists and fogs
Of our minds
Be cleared
By a bracing, biting gale.