WARNINGS
Severe weather warnings.
Thunderstorms. Heavy rain.
Possible tornadoes.
Written in radiant red
letters scrolling across
The digital landscape
I so despise.
How these purveyors of dire
consequences break into the silence
of joy. Joy they will never understand -
these clinical conveyors, they know
nothing of home and heart; only ones
and zeroes. All equals zero in their worlds.
Rooted to my chair, I crouch low into the cane
seat and wait as the winds howl through
the tall trees of maple, and walnut, and pine.
Dogwoods and redbuds shake with a stout fury
shouting, "We, too, matter!" The coneflowers luscious pink
fade with a darkening sky. Petals bow giving rise to
bouquets of anticipated rapture.
I heed no warnings. The wild wind embraces. The
rain kisses with ferocity. The trees. The flowers.
This old woman. All revel in being alive.
Alone. Here. Now. In a landscape so sublime.
"Know this," we shout in unison, "We are more,
much more than ones and zeros!"
Poem & photograph "Before the Storm" by Tina Hudak, 2023 ©
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