I listen to the storm’s guttural sounds
dread blows through our trees
they sway so close
hover above my death
my life-line tangles in their branches
breaks along with their cracks
the weight of one tree could easily rock this house
crack this hovel in half
Lightning blows up the 3am sky
I bargain with God to keep this house whole
I’ll stop drinking, cussing, illegally parking
cease it all just get me through
hear a loud crash somewhere down the lane
on someone else’s home
As if those demons provoked Talos and he thrust
bloody hell over this mass of trees
that surround our house
laid stake over our Christmas
tearing at everything I have built and poured in
What will throw me one more chance
not to ruin nor lose this magical morning
aware the storm overtook all the homes on this lane
except our little shack
Kristin Garth & Pink Plastic House a tiny journal 