With the storm, it makes me less anxious and paranoid
About my own life and the uneven road it tends to navigate
because it reminds me of the wild, untameable world we live in
And how the fruit just keeps falling from the trees, it's unbelievable
How many ripened feijoas get squashed and then they are swept away by this storm

I should be out in that storm
With a raincoat, long enough to reach my ankles
Big enough to encompass my body in a cocoon of hopeful dryness
Some rain boots to protect my feet from the puddles and the sloppy slippery and gravely path that awaits me.

I could've saved those green and smooth feijoas
Or at least picked them up once I'd seen them on the ground.
But I chose to walk around them, ignore them, until the funky smell just subsided and they were washed away with the rain.
Next season I might just take them in a basket,
Sell them and buy myself some warm socks
until the storm subsides and I have
Made it through the winter.