[colinbaker62]

always starting off a mild storm, but better, developing
into that plum-coloured, tropical disturbance.
Naked nature, moving through space and time,
getting organised,
forever tacking towards,
bearing down upon
that low-lying, central territory,

now swelling, quickening,
kicking mid-level highs,
upgrading, storm category 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

triggers warm waves, unseen,
like tumbling bars,
unstoppable floodwaters,
and red shards, breaking skin

as 100 million-plus
- no longer open to arguments about staying put -
compete in a survival-of-the-fittest surge,
and 2 bodies, in a knotted heap.

2 bodies, rapidly weakening, downgrading,
storm category 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, resting.
A still scene of utter
love, cloud tops
around our eyes,
warm once more.








Colin Baker September 2008

[Peppy]

History is written in the books. And it's apparently written in your poems too. I did a little research on Hurricane Ike and I thoroughly enjoyed the aspects you transferred into the poem. Does that make sense? Well, it make senses to me. Anywhoo, the imagery was fantastic and the fitted in information what I liked best.

Now that's a beautiful way to end a poem. I think it's perfect.

A still scene of utter
love, cloud tops
around our eyes,
warm once more.