Storms

From afar
I watch
as the Atlantic brooms
sweep the islands

Shrieking with glee
flattening
yellowed grass
and blowing away

All that is not
fastened tied down
will be swept away
and discarded unconcerned

Far out at sea
where warm
and cold clash
a storm is born

The warnings fly
The hatches
battened down
We cower

In the face of unbridled force
we marvel
at the beauty
of nature untamed