WHEN STORMS WERE PART OF MY SOUL (3-13-93 FLORIDA NO-NAME STORM MEMOIR)

Thought I’d reblog my poem about the Florida No-Name Storm to compare to my poem written about Irma the other day. Aging may bring about wisdom but it’s certainly more boring…

poeturja

Driving across the county

Wind and rain our only drug

Laughing and shrieking

In a buffeted Ford Ranger

Red to match our twin

Aries vital force

Didn’t take much for me

To fall into his manic madness

Speeding through the No Name Storm

Meteorologists missing the hurricane criteria

At Dunedin Causeway

Sheriff’s deputies took one look

At the wind surfer on the roof

Laughed at us

Sent us back home

Greeted by the vision of my son

Holding up the chicken coop

Teetering on high wooden legs

Like Baba Jaga’s cottage

Fairy tale come true

Being forty was fun

Fifty became the crossover

Threshold to fear

Surrounded by storms this summer

I try not to quake

At the dissonance of thunder

But after fifty

Bodies become vulnerable

Hearts alter their rhythm

Minds dwell too much

On helplessness

Still, when the next storm strikes

I’ll shake my fist

Under the bleeding…

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