As the Storm Passes

Blue has come to visit my hometown,
The unwelcome visitor leaves bookmarks on the worn cobblestone,
I watch children flee to their mothers,
Panic painting their face like a lion at a state fair.

And within their mother's embrace,
They feel the wind as blue wrecks through century old foundations,
I hide in my house,
The sturdiest building in town, built by my own two hands.

I sit by the bay windows,
Made to let in warm midsummer rays,
I watch that light turn green,
But my house does not falter,
Does not crumble.

I appreciate the way the house only sways,
I keep time to the beat of my decorations slamming against the walls,
I watch, silent,
And can only hope to recognize the beauty as the storm passes.