She ran on
into the storm
the last shreds of her
designer clothes
shrieking out to sea
terrifying the gulls
'I'm free...I'm free! '
she screamed nakedly.
The divorce papers(that
had finally come through)
tore themselves apart &
flew...flew...to the four
unfurling her fury
(laced with lightnings)
she conducted the storm
in a fine frenzy.
Nature's orchestra
drawing her to this
crescend of self.
'Bloody tourists! '
bellowed the blustering
one man & his dog.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem