The wind makes my little cottage shudder and shake, the rain pelts relentlessly on the roof. I can hear the rumblings of thunder as things thrash around on the outside. The palms’ fronds that had died during the summer have now been flung down to earth ungraciously by the howling wind. Not a bird in sight of course, they are smarter than us. I don’t know whether to be slightly afraid or think “fuck it” what can happen? But suddenly I feel like Dorothy. Even though I’ve turned up my TV, the rain is really loud and I can hear the wind still, and the thunder…It sounds like a train coming. I remember someone telling me that earthquakes sound like a train or huge truck bearing down on you. I wondered if the rain was actually hail – it sounded so hard but it just didn’t seem cold enough. I’m snuggling down – battening down those hatches. I think about the poor cows taking a battering in the storm. Nature is so harsh – we have summer and everybody’s happy and then Wham! So this is winter – we will blow the crap outta you, sting your bovine crowd and make things generally miserable.
Oh Hello Winter!!…. mother-fucker….mumble grumble…
thunder
Kick-start
Thunder claps slap me in my stomach and heart
the sound so loud I can feel it’s power to my core
the rain is disjointed, fragmented and like nails
brittle, metallic, piercing upon my tin roof
cold drapes her cape and darkness is too early
Winters’ chilly breathe clings to me and all else
with crispy grass and black icy roads
time hibernates,
in a torpor while waiting for
the kick-start of Spring
Iron grey afternoons, misty mornings and
chilly bedsheets
embrace every day with a choking chilliness
a resistant prisoner I will wait
as a hibernating bear or a frozen tundra
stillness and a rigor about me will be chipped away
with every day of Spring
as I am hurtled with a kick-start
back into a living thing

