Where are we going in such a hurry?

With our bags all packed.

Fleeing the scene of a crime?

Perhaps a lover’s dispute?

The carriage is here.

Police sirens wail in the distance.

The story is getting better

as I watch from

my bedroom window.


I can feel the storm approaching.

Moving closer to shore.

A spray of water in my face.

Salt in the air.

Palm trees swaying.

Sand rippling.

A wildness in the air.

Birds fleeing for safety.

Waves crashing.

Sky turning darker.

Red in its anger.

Roaring its fury.

Raining down tears.

When will it end?

Once the sky is finished.

Once it’s calmed down.

The sun will peek out.

The birds will return.

And all will be right

with the world.

Tantrum over.