Sandsquiggles's Blog

My latest novel has been written. It is now in the editing and looking for an agent and/or publisher phase. More on the novel later. So, I’m in a downturned writing mode. But I want to rejuvenate my Blog, Though I’m an author of prose, in times like this I occasionally dabble in poetry. So below is a poem I wrote several years ago while in Maine. Hope you enjoy it.

An Approaching Storm

A misty day.
The clock strikes three.
It’s in the afternoon.
Only zephyrs tussle leaves of birch trees.

Many miles to the south,
In the Caribbean Sea,
A colossal cyclops named Irma was born.

It’s been moving, scarfing costal shorelines,
Cranking westward, northward, then eastward,  
Devastating islands, beaches, and dwellings in her path.

We’ve been warned,
Irma is approaching

But here on the bluff,
Overlooking the Gulf of Maine,
The mist has thickened as it drifts into the bay,
Burying everything in its path,
Till only nearby firs can be seen.

The vaporous twilight dims.
But sudden flashes illuminate the haze.
Then, like empty barrels rolling in an attic,
Distant thunder grumbles.

Branches whiplash.
Watery splotches explode on the roof
As torrents are released.

Somewhere in the whitish mist,
A loon calls.
Its doleful song communicates assurance.

Comforted.
I curl into my blanket and pray,
Hoping devastation does not travel here.

I look up.
Watch the rain stream down the windows
And utter a prayer for those in the behemoth’s track.


Some photos to set the mood

Copyright © April 2022 by Richard Modlin