for Charis in Western Bay, Newfoundland when a storm is coming
the furor of nature likes to whip & lash
the dramatic landscapes – the armies of trees
the sassy coastlines the ancient rocks the ghostly
barrens – Western Bay looks like land clawed
by a tantruming beast or a nibble out of the
lush coast by a lost & lazy Longnose Gar
wind & rain snow & sleet pelt ocean tops & bay bellies
in forceful torrents torturing Time – twisting it into
segments of survival and behold!
Another storm approaches!
The hue and cry of Sky’s raucous yawp gathers!
Ready the wood stove!
Haul in the chop!
Bake the raisin bread!
Boil the water!
And, OH! Gather the storm chips posthaste!
Lays Dill Pickle
Miss Vickie’s Sea Salt
Cheese Doritos – choose a flavour
Consider the crunch
But darling – do not forget the storm chips!
Learn more about Western Bay, Newfoundland Here.
Learn more about the Longnose Gar Here.
What storm chips are you going to buy?
One thought on “Poem 87 – Storm Chips”
Lays plain are fine by me! thanks for the lovely storm chips poem. You could have been here! that’s exactly what it’s like! brrrr… batten down the hatches, haul out the storm chips!