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hurricane season
(I live in the north east, but I just felt like I wanted to write this poem about the hurricane season)
The sharp rain stings my skin
As the grey clouds cast a shadow overhead
The mud is smushy under my feet
As I try to look for shelter from the storm
The sun hides far away beyond the mountains
Scared of coming forward and showing the disaster
Water rises to my knees, I get scared and scream
Plastic toys and lawn chairs begin to float away
Leave now or face “certain death”
Notices ignored, I should have listened
I decided to stay, to be close to home
What was the use now, when everything is gone
