Mouse wind

One of the poems I composed is called Mouse Wind. I did it in grade 3. It goes like this:

The wind is like a little mouse

scurrying to its little house

it goes high, it goes low

it goes everywhere it could go

could it be above our heads?

could it be below our beds?

it blows around in the night

flying up high like a kite

maybe it will come again

how ’bout tomorrow at half past ten?