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when the hurricane blew in
and the awning filled with air like a grand sail
as if to pull our brick and timber house
from the foundation and send it whirling
on the sea now coursing down our street
it filled me too

the tempest
so fierce it propelled me out the doors
in a nightgown

an indelible current
pushing me on
to spiral, sing, yowl, and dance
in pounding waves of rain
though the cold of it chiseled at my skin

“Sister,”
it howled
“we are kin.”

© Julie Ayers
April 2012 – NaPoWriMo 24

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