Storms in us are barreling, taking aim at our threats.
Land will impact the wind. Hurricanes, powerful wind, moving west.
The center of wind, rain, and surf strikes close. Halt the move. Storm Center had wind.
Located on moving mouths, a storm watches for strength until it sees a chance. It reaches for heavy areas. Could it flood?
Meanwhile, expect a long line. Storm forces could reach night or day.
The earliest storm follows from the son.
This is a blackout poem I made from the weather section of a newspaper. It symbolizes the nature of arguments and fights as storms. You can never predict when they’ll happen or why.
