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Wicked Winds
February 26, 2015
I lie awake thinking
Will this pestilence wipe us out?
I stay in the cellar
While yellow fever destroys
What is outside.
Fast, vicious, tragedy
I hear the dangerous winds
That whip like lashes.
The lash that is transmitting
This disease.
Horrible, terrible, danger
This monster will soon be vanquished.
The cone-shaped demon
That spreads its reign of terror.
Hopefully it will never find me
In this cellar.
Run, live, survive
© Daniel H., Oak Bluffs, MA
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