Arthur – during the storm
~
~
Arthur
~
woods are a green ocean
swell, each oak a breaker, and pines
crash on the shore, withdraw, branches
lift and fall, lift and settle
maples gyrate, invert their leaves, backlit
waves, spray from every
blade, winds tug at petiole, green
debris on the deck, fallen stars
on the lawn, the wind a rumble, every
branch a knife, each trunk a bow, bent
beyond the stretch of fibre, trees heave
branches lash, in the woods a crack
pummels the growl of a chainsaw in
the neighbor’s yard
~
~
~
~
Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
I love your poem, too, Jane -a wonderful rendering of a hurricane’s sounds and sights. You guys got slammed pretty hard, but I’m glad you came through with your sense of adventure still intact!
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Barbara Rodgers
July 19, 2014 at 10:49 am
Hi. I guess if a power outage is our biggest problem, we don’t have much to complain about! Jane
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jane tims
July 24, 2014 at 9:10 am
I love this poem, Jane, right from the very first words. “woods are a green ocean” describes so well some of what I saw when Arthur blew through here.
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Robin
July 14, 2014 at 3:05 pm
Hi Robin. There are still people without power here. Chainsaws and generators were the most common sounds after the storm. Jane
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jane tims
July 15, 2014 at 12:05 pm