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Rebecca Rocker Jan 2017
We checked the forecast
and readied ourselves,
Battened down the hatches
and stoked the fire,
Begged the foundations
to hold these walls.

Ribbons of rain licked the roof.
Iron clouds swallowed the sky.
The Storm, like a bailiff,
hammered the door.
For hours He hammered
and hammered again.
Like an unwanted salesman
selling us fear,
He stayed at our door
and hammered some more.

There was no use fighting;
He was stronger than us.
So with gritted teeth
and tear-soaked eyes,
we prayed for morning to come.

And it did.

— The End —