I was born in October
when Indian Summer
can give way to winds,
one good day
the harbringer of destruction,
rough water,
pelting rain,
and pity the roof in its path.
The quiet by the bay
shattered by a barometer
no one else trusted
to read the scale---
and further down the coast,
I am chilled bone deep,
waiting for the outcome
an an autumn blow
I never saw coming.
God bless our men in ships,
God keep them from the wake,
I have no widow's walk this time,
just the fear
that this storm will make shore
and leave chaos where she lands.
No wonder they used to name storms for women.
when Indian Summer
can give way to winds,
one good day
the harbringer of destruction,
rough water,
pelting rain,
and pity the roof in its path.
The quiet by the bay
shattered by a barometer
no one else trusted
to read the scale---
and further down the coast,
I am chilled bone deep,
waiting for the outcome
an an autumn blow
I never saw coming.
God bless our men in ships,
God keep them from the wake,
I have no widow's walk this time,
just the fear
that this storm will make shore
and leave chaos where she lands.
No wonder they used to name storms for women.






