Caroline could be a lover
but here she is an incoming storm
80..90 miles an hour she will arrive
tomorrow. I wonder if she will fall
for our charms, I doubt she will
stop to listen to our pleas, she
will be in too much of a hurry
too frenzied too intent on her blow-
through. Caroline will not be a
lover, except be in love with her
own maddening wail as she passes,
lifting everything not nailed down.