A Guest In The Storm Poem by Nayeem Wani

The wind bent the branches of the trees.
As I arrived, their faces had already turned red.
It was the furious wind that filled them with fear.

As a guest, what could I do?
As hosts, what choice did they have?

One stood gripping the tent's hook
With hands trembling in the bitter cold.
The wind was merciless
It never cared whose face it struck.

The other, burdened by responsibility,
Pulled shut the cloth doors against the gale.
Then came the first violent gust,
Tearing the cornerstone hook from the earth.

For a moment, we all stood petrified
Not for ourselves,
But for the tents we were trying to save.
We were all in quite a pickle.

Yet one man seemed to enjoy the raging wind:
Three stars shone upon his shoulder,
Two guards stood beside him,
And his calmness somehow ticked me off.

Above us, the sky gathered dark clouds.
The first drops of rain
Touched our bare necks.
Still, smiles survived the cold and the fear,
For we had been friends since childhood

I stood there with my back soaked through.
We looked at one another,
Seeing eye to eye
Yet I still received rejection as a guest.

Haha.
Sly friends.

The sky grew eloquent in its silence.
I asked,
"Cat got your tongue? "