Hurricane Earl

We huddle in our neon caves
Gathered as around the Shamans of old
And watch, wide-eyed, as the cursor blinks,
Tracking wild movement
Across the merciless sea.
But at the last
Of what use
Our technological toys
Our technicolor lives
Against raging, primal Nature?
All that we take for granted;
Our organized, easy lives
Quickly break down.
The darkness is absolute,
And the useless switch taunts:
No electrical imp
Scurrying to do our bidding.
Civilized veneer sanded off
As the panicked lambs
Fight over a jug of water
Growl over a loaf of bread.
The whole city stops
Holding its collective breath
Waiting for landfall.
But amidst the chaos
Moments become Memories
Time slows
Simple joys rediscovered:
A good book by candlelight
A warm, fuzzy blanket
Wrapping up tight...
And chunks of cheddar
Flirting with coy crackers.
I will never forget
My first Hurricane.


Copyright October 1998 J Montgomery