A Hurricane Species
A grovelling species
Swinging long arms
And digging for worms,
Filtering off the west coast
As batches of thunderstorms
That grunt pre-words
And fight; then wander
Over the open emptiness.
The heat amasses
And splinters them into groups,
Going separate ways,
Each bearing a different hue.
Then, to the amazement
Of observers, sprawling,
Enlarges to a subcontinental size,
And barges forward,
Trailing as a spiral,
And evolving overnight, almost,
To take lives, kill and eviscerate.
We are this species
With the hurricanes following.
They fear nothing,
Unlike a cape,
As we fear them.
We must, therefore, fear ourselves,
To the ends of the seas.
Stan Petrovich's Other Poems
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