Fighting With You
Everyone loves a storm.
No forecast can predict what it will do.
We are enticed in that moment.
Oh, the damage. We run outside to take it in.
Something about fury we cannot control
intrigues us. Especially as it inflicts others.
We re-assess our own insurance coverage
but other than that -- God help them!
When I know I have displeased you
there is not even time to gather lawn chairs.
Those eyes squint. There is no turning the channel.
In light of the above, forgive my fascination --
Because even then, I only love you.
-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --
Have a great Wednesday!
*****
I love the contraries at work in this poem: the utter (and perverse) fascination with the damage -- as well as the apt storm weather metaphor.
ReplyDeleteP. S. I wish you would also post the poem about another storm...a hailstorm.
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry. But this is just a great poem. I had to say it again.
ReplyDeleteThank you for these nice comments, soph.
ReplyDeletePerhaps soon I will post here that old poem you are referring to, which is currently tucked away over here:
http://poetrypuddle.blogspot.ca/2010/02/hailstones-finn-field.html