Poem of the Week: Storm Cellar

Happy Birthday, America!


Storm Cellar
June 26, 2013

It never rains, but it pours. Such is how the saying goes,
And quite frankly, I’m getting sick of how violently the wind blows,
Rending branches from their trees and scattering them about
In every yard and parking lot and along each road, north to south.
I’m sick of all the lightning flashing ominously in the sky,
Threatening to cause my home’s electricity to fry
By either zapping my fuse box or felling some tree
And sending it crashing down upon some power lines—oh, me!
I’m sick of all the excessive rain pouring, pouring on down
So heavily that it does far more than simply soak the ground—
Filling ditches to the brim, forming rivers in no time flat,
Drowning the ground beneath them and every plant at that,
Flooding roads like no tomorrow, scattering debris about,
And even sweeping homes away and leaving too many without
A roof of their own to protect them from any more
Of what good ol’ Mother Nature, in her fury, has in store.
I haven’t even mentioned hail and how it pounds a way
Upon everything below it, be it made of stone or clay,
Glass or metal, grass or wood, and decimates it so,
Leaving it less than what it was after even the great winds blow.
Getting back to winds, I’m thankful that no twister yet
Has claimed my home as its plaything and left my family to fret
Over where we were to go next and how we’d live the rest
Of our lives following the storm, trying to make the best
Out of a new situation that none of us had desired,
And hopefully, after all is said and done and this storm expires,
I can once again be thankful for this home I’ve got
And my family and I will remain in a fortunate spot,
For too many have been the horror stories I’ve heard of all the folks
Who’ve lost it all to Nature’s wrath, which is never, ever a joke,
For Nature’s nature knows nothing of individuality
And can be cruel to anyone for no reason at all, you see.
Passionate yet dispassionate at the same time—
Easily what one could call a paradoxical state of mind,
So long as one perceives sentience within the forces at hand
As they sweep their way across and bear down mercilessly upon the land.
Enough of that, though, for I must think positively
If I hope to weather this foul weather and perchance see
The landscape once again calm and possibly even the sun
Poke out its nose and dry things up for everyone.
Hopefully, too, at least most of the landscape will remain
After all the wind, lightning, hail, and gallons and gallons of rain.
Alas, there’s but one way for me to discover this truth,
And quite frankly, I’m in no mood to attempt to play sleuth.
Therefore, I’ll just wrap things up right here and take a nap
In my storm cellar and hope that I can sleep through all this crap.


Thank you all for reading, and Happy Independence Day to all my fellow Americans!


Dustin M. Weber


Author Pages: Smashwords.com




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