Tropical Depression

Carrying coffee around like a baby's
bottle, appreciating the electric grid
and praying it holds, still
safe and dry, some aren't,
pelting rain sounding like ping
pong balls dropping against the back
drop of howling wind, flood
warnings widespread, refuged by
brick, buried cables, some aren't,
trees taking the brunt, waving
limbs, so far so good,
some aren't so fortunate. Bird
singing in the storm, dog
at my feet, sheltered, protected,
some aren't.

© Christine Salkin Davis, 2018




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