This Fish

 

 

 

This is an ode to Hurricane Laura which just hit the Louisiana and Texas coast as a Category Four early this morning and which, well into today, has continued to barrel North over dry land. 

Like most Floridians, I’m sure, I have been watching this storm attentively, as its focus shifted ever leftward on the map.  Despite my relief, at not being targeted, this time, my heart goes out to all those who suffer a loss from this calamity, especially during this difficult period of uncertainty due to the pandemic.  And I hope you all, my readers, will consider doing whatever you can, to help our Southern neighbors in need. 

Thanks for stopping by to read.  

 

The summer air, it shimmers.

Its grasp is moist and hot.

The afternoon comes flooding down

And soaks our grassy plot.

 

We listen to the wireless,

Attuned to each report.

Just off the coast, there looms a storm,

Just taunting us, for sport.

 

It comes up from the islands,

While there, a nascent shower.

Like Hamilton, an immigrant,

Historical in power,

 

The straits it strides, the isles it glides,

It slithers crost the Keys;

It bathes and soothes it muscles

In a bath of high degrees.

 

We breathe a sigh of glad relief.

Projections take it West!

We worry for our brethren, but

We’re glad to get a rest.

 

Meanwhile, the eye, it opens wide.

The fins, they flail and spin.

It jumps–a two!  A three!  A four!

What trouble they are in!

 

And then it lands–not like a plane,

So graceful, slow, and sleek–

It crashes, catapulting trees:

No mercy for the meek.

 

And rather than expiring,

Gasping, writhing on the sand,

This beast, it gets a second wind!

This fish can walk on land.

 

Copyright 2020 Andrea LeDew

 

If you would like to read other poems and stories about hurricanes, see my Hurricane Anthology  Or check out my hashtag #hurricane.  For more about our family’s experiences with hurricanes, check out  The Wind Beyond the Walls