Hurricane

If society’s a hurricane,
then I live in the eye.
And through that lens I see the slump
of every earthly sigh.

I watch as bonds that lovers share
are torn apart by rage,
uprooted by those fearsome winds
that even I can’t gauge,

And as I watch the sky in dance
the sun sets in the west,
a sole survivor of the trials
abandoning the rest.

Delivering the final punch,
the nightfall comes to stay.
It brings the end of life and death
to those with sense to pray.

Swell

From seed and sprout as the clouds passed by they grew,

higher and wider, like a spreading out of balloons let go.

We climbed them then, in days of youth and summer,

let their altitudinous forms lift us up to a brighter day.

When the clouds rolled in and days grew dark

we'd sit on the porch and watch the trees deflate.

Color burned away, volume bought the farm,

and the strands strained against the pull of gravity,

reaching, reaching, waiting for a gust of air,

a maiden's tear, a burst of life,

anything to inflate those balloons again.

And we would swell up with them,

Expand until we rose to the stratosphere,

and finally, burst into multicolored debris.