Friday, November 4, 2016
Wind Warning 10 14 16
Hurricane warnings on the island,
Poetic preoccupation with death…
I awoke to walk on frozen grass,
Through clouds of my own breath.
The lone robin, rabbits and myself,
Are pre-programed to survive.
We will let the wind blow through us
To regroup on the beach alive.
We’ll tally our losses tomorrow,
Weighing our victory over fear…
Let’s celebrate this wonderful place
Until we blow away next year.