Hurricane
by Yesha Townsend
pray for the fickle cloud of shark oil
that it murked in vain
look for
the spider’s low slung web
the red morning sky
Spittal Pond in churn
the fish hitting back of throat
from the shore
fill the bathtub -
the buckets used to spread mulch
every pot in the house
the basin for dishes
water to dip
in the aftermath
ready for stillness
gather,
books, board games
rum
wait for the howl
the first bands of rain
the pelter to zephyr
you know this temperamental gale
in blinding whirl
let her take all senses but
to hear
& when she comes
spinning and fury
open the leeward
cup the pressure drop
wait
if a direct hit
watch for the eye
its heavy lids
such furious walls
when they open such
tender calm
shut door & blinds
shut cracked window
wander
to the opposing side
find the new lee
let the storm in
that it murked in vain
look for
the spider’s low slung web
the red morning sky
Spittal Pond in churn
the fish hitting back of throat
from the shore
fill the bathtub -
the buckets used to spread mulch
every pot in the house
the basin for dishes
water to dip
in the aftermath
ready for stillness
gather,
books, board games
rum
wait for the howl
the first bands of rain
the pelter to zephyr
you know this temperamental gale
in blinding whirl
let her take all senses but
to hear
& when she comes
spinning and fury
open the leeward
cup the pressure drop
wait
if a direct hit
watch for the eye
its heavy lids
such furious walls
when they open such
tender calm
shut door & blinds
shut cracked window
wander
to the opposing side
find the new lee
let the storm in