Storm

A thunderous roar
in the chimney
blows ash and soot down
nearly smothering the fire below

White spray flies
horizontally over the seawall
as waves furiously crash
against sea defences

Angry white riders
charge mightily in from afar
their cohors forbiddingly
assail the fortress of cliffs

Passage on foot
is well-nigh impossible
the harbour is full of
the sea empty of boats

For now we are once more
an island
the ferry tied up
and the shops empty