green

green

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Dear Tornado

Sometimes when I am nervous                                      I twirl a thin line of my hair.
but you,                                   you made a new case out of me.
for when I noticed you coming across the lawn 
to see little granular me,            my strains twirled themselves 
in their own mind                             as my fingers stay locked at the hip sides. I watched you come across the street slow in all your grandmotherly gait
...saw you look left then right, and with a skip of a sweet girl-scout
cometh to me, straight for the jugular
Special Thanks to Kathy Donnelly and editors for publishing this blog/poetry piece in Paumanok, Interwoven.