Eunice

we duly cowered

inside as instructed

save for the idiots

cavorting on the beach

some amongst the waves,

this wind blows cruel music

a screaming banshee

undefinable, indescribable

as the taste of water

or the colour of steam,

such ferocious anger

assigned a woman

Eunice, more befitting

a demure librarian

wronged and revengeful,

a callous tenacity

akin to a thousand warriors

directing devastation

from her watchful chair,

so, we pay in reparations

build fences, plant trees

give thanks for leniency

and of course, mourn our dead

Published by grahamrsherwood