gale force

this is the sort of morning,
when even the gulls
want to be somewhere else:
wind at fifteen to twenty knots,
out of the northeast,
rain going sideways,
seas at two feet --
a classic play of Nature,
as She seeks to
wipe this place
off the map --

only poets and other fools
are out here today,
mumbling disconsolately
about victims and
prayers and dreams,
picked up by the gale,
and sent aloft,
or tipped sideways,
mast parallel to the water,

September 27, 2009.

Copyright © Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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