I knew,
By the way
The hair on the
Back of my neck
Stood up,
While facing into
The wind from the ocean,
That a hurricane
Was on its way.
So, I didn’t need
Paw, my cat/kitten,
Black as a storm
With one white mitten,
To be caterwauling,
And racing around
The lee of the lighthouse,
At my feet.
He was not happy!
And maybe none of us,
Will be,
This time tomorrow.
{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}
DE BA. UEL

Leave a comment