Wednesday, March 16, 2016

My First Hurricane



Like a dead leaf
Lifted from the scorched summer earth
Now wet and almost green
Like a dead leaf
Carried by a thundercloud
And brought to water by wind:

I am here in the eye of the storm
Dizzy, motionless,
Suspended in the humid air
Waiting.

Trees tremble.
I breathe slowly.
I have known tempests, squalls, and gentle rain.
You are my first hurricane.
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