by cheri block
At this moment, ferocious northerly winds are upsetting my clay pots. Off the porch the adobe meteors fly in random trajectories, carried to the left and right by errant gusts.
Broken shards of red pot and pansy root balls lie in the driveway helplessly waiting for rescue.
Snapdragon bow in humble acceptance.
The bay trees by my sliding glass windows bend branches back into twisting knots.
Oaks remain still, their grasp deep and secure.
Across the creek, the tops of four redwood trees begin the hula. Three- story giants sway east and west to the Hukilau.
The turkeys huddle under the sycamore.
Lemony grasses on the hill swerve to the north and then to the south in a manic show of concern.
Soon Boreas will barge into my family room by blowing smoke out of the wood stove, our iron hedge against inflation.
The leaves will insist on entry to the garage.
Door jambs will press close to their doors, calling out to the locks for security.
Nature will have her way.
Awesome Boreas, you old man.
photo by cheri block sabraw “Contrast” Stevenson, WA. 2009 All Rights Reserved.