Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Irma (TP/MMXVII)



Waiting on Irma
clearing my lanai.
I’m getting a hernia,
Rush says “it’s a lie.”

Will my windows last?
A category 4.
a non-impact blast
glass strewn on the floor.

It’s just a murmur
but not a rumor.
This condition Irma
(we’ve been there)
this aging Boomer.

So, I sit and let this pass
as I notch this event.
In line for gas
my disposable income spent.

This season of angst und sturm
with life sad and funny.
This too shall turn
and leave my Eden sunny.

I watch the horizon
and ocean too.
Signs of Armageddon
water churned grey, not blue.

I will sit-and-stay
and ride this out.
count each day
until we shout:

Irma, bye-bye
your likes have been here before.
I’ll take a deep breath and sigh;
“Is this it?” Al Gore.
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