Graphic by Billie
Hurricane Sky
Cloud bellies, looking muscular,
Big knots of corded strength,
Like rippled abs up in the sky,
I studied them at length.
A hurricane sky came strolling,
Along my stretch of beach,
A muscled bit of cumulus,
Just slightly out of reach.
I stared into the cauldron,
The writhing mass at play.
It roiled and folded constantly.
Things could go wrong this day.
The surf was pounding out the steps,
As clouds walked over land.
Somehow I knew that they were not,
Here to just pound sand.
The portents of a message,
Were all quite abundantly clear,
When Mother Nature speaks her piece,
It’s wise to lend an ear.
NicknamedBob . . . . . September 9, 2004