I see the storm.
That darker patch of grey on the horizon ruffling the waters,
Darker than all of the rest.
It is slowly moving my way,
Towards shore.

It will get here by evening.
At the moment it is calm.
The air is hardly moving
And the waters are flat.

Yes, the token ripples move
As the surges come through,
But otherwise it's peaceful.

Cool winter air breathes.
The sands are dimpled from
Last night's rain,
Undisturbed other than a
Lonely pair of footprints.

A single sailboat marks the harbor entrance.

The storm will get here by evening.
But  for the moment
I will enjoy the peace and clam.

One storm has passed.
The other is yet to come.
But at the moment
All is peace.
All is calm.