Eye of the Storm


From my viewpoint,
safe, dry, and warm.
Far away from,
the eye of the storm.

I still know the horror,
of being swept away.
Of winds so strong,
strong buildings sway.

Windows blown in,
and debris in the air,
dead birds raining,
wind howling to scare.

And horror of horrors,
when the water comes in,
and rises and rises,
until it's sink or swim.

The only thing to save you,
is being tied to a tree.
Imagine the horror,
that must be.

When the tree is,
torn from its roots,
by the force of the surge,
and you lose your boots.

Snakes in the water,
and no water to drink.
Only mud and slime,
and the smell of death's stink.

The sun comes out,
thank God you're alive.
With so many gone,
why did you survive?



Eye of the Storm

  Eye of the Storm


Mail

More Poems

My Place

Read War's End, the Novel

Copyright 2011 © Ronald W. Hull


8/26/11