Storm
ZOELAB DAY 59
With the east coast of the United States on my mind, I remember a poem I wrote in 2001 when a hurricane hit New York. It is strange to now be the one far away from the storm. I fear for my friends and family and all people under the monster storm. Sending love...
The invisible signs of summer
Switch me over to September style.
There was a hurricane in
New York City last night.
It knocked upon my window panes.
It murdered seven people.
It made me late.
It made me cry.
It created a space in heaven
for the insane
(which today includes the nearly-sane).
At night,
that’s what I become:
terrifyingly frozen in time.
Nearly hit by storms.
Nearly Sane.