Hurricane Katia

Someone else’s storm

The oak is full of surf-sounds.
The poplars hiss and twist
Branches bent like umbrellas
Blown inside-out.
Twigs, leaves, small branches litter
The verge and gutter,
Pigeons hurtle over the wood
Like artillery shells:
Even the drowsy river
Is stippled and disturbed,
Raked by cat’s-paws.
Clouds big as counties
Shutter the sun, sending shadows
Running like hounds over the plough
And under it all
A deep-drone fugue
For Aeolian harp
Played on gates and power lines.
The land shakes, waits,
Wondering what will break upon it
As force and fury tear across
Three thousand miles of ocean.
And here we are
Caught up again
In someone else’s storm.

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9 thoughts on “Hurricane Katia

  1. 🙂 I like the way you describe this storm, we have some of the remains here too, here it is even more someone elses storm. You wrote a beautiful impression of this depression with lovely lines. “The poplars hiss and twist” that is a great find! Apart from ships in need and other problems, storms are great, nature at her angriest. And she is right?

  2. I don’t think I’ve ever read a poem describing a storm quite so beauitfully as this. I really enjoyed the imagery especially the pigeons hurtling like artillery. Very vivid! I hope the weather has calmed down for you now.

    Tikarma.

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