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Jul 21

i watch, from my window
as the winds begin to pickup
off the bay, to rise and swirl
in clouds of dust and speck
gritty and pinging through the eaves
of this old house, forever battered
and weathered year and year
from storm after storm but still
regardless of the storm or the season
i watch, as the power lines whip and crackle
like strands of tormented licorice, as the lights
in the room, flicker off and on, i prepare
myself once more for the onslaught that is natures
way of giving everyone the *******, and still
i cant help myself, i take the abuse and i watch

by Michael Perry
Written by
Michael Perry
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