Complaining

Each breath is harder than the last
Each day a little shorter
Every year the sun is dimmer
And the winter colder.
The moon is slower in the sky
And I am older.

Birds sing sweetly, but off key
The Christmas fire smells of ash.
Cupid brings some wilted roses,
Birthday wrappings fill the trash.
Children are more imps than angels.
The dog smells foul.
The cat sheds hair.
Candies hurt my teeth,
And worse,
I no longer care.

All the ones I love are dying
And the rest are getting sick.
The young are noisy,
Wild and angry—
Heaven take me quick.

 

Hurricane_Jeanne

Hurricane
A hurricane, a great red eye like flame
Burning the radar, as if fed on oil
Laps towards us, churning, whirling and untamed,
And on the land I flee, antlike, recoil.
As if the very heartbeat of unclean desire
Once rooted on the ocean and not quelled
Must come, attracted by the dry land’s fire
To beach itself, by higher Gods propelled.
The very sea bites at its tail, in motion
Spinning adrift by currents drawn to land
Spitting out great clawing hands of ocean
And sucking up mouthfuls of ships and sand.
Against a force so powerful, so great,
What can we do but hold our breath and wait?

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