Rogue Wave

The news bleats
a nonstop loop
of fearmongering
as the regularly-scheduled doom
crawls across the ocean

And I yawn.
Look over the snacks and
Find myself irritated
at everything.

Because itís just
a fucking storm.

Itís a big one
but Iíve shut my eyes
through storms this big

and Iím sure Iíll be fine.
I'm sure I'll be fine through this, too.

The flooding started
and Iím curled up with a cup of
tea and a smutty book,
because I maintain the
high ground at all time,
and Iím not concerned
with being stuck on my roof,
exposed and waiting for rescue

Iím never going to need rescue.

The tornadoes started,
and I pick at a small bag of trail mix,
skipping over the peanuts,
digging for the little chocolate candies,
because the twisting wind
is on the side of the hurricane's eye
that statistically
wonít bother me much

But my skin prickled.
My palms grew clammy.
My neck flushed and I licked my lips
because suddenly my mouth was too dry

as I watching the water peel
back from the shore.

As a storm approaches over the water,
it has negative pressure
and it literally sucks in the ocean,

exposing shorelines
that have never existed.

that have never existed...

The same thing
happens with

It's as if the force of nature
has to rip off the skin of the shore
and leave it naked
to be pummeled
on previously unexposed areas

And the heat ...

the heat in the water makes
it all move faster than predicted,
makes it all †preternaturally strong

The ominous sight of
acres of dry land
makes my chest rattle.

Aristotle told us †
nature abhors a vacuum,
and I shouldn't give a shit
about what dead Greeks think

but I see how raw the shore looks
I see how strong the swirling vortex
surrounding me has become
and how there is nothing.


that I, in my small humanity,
can do to stop it.

And all at once,
I'm filled with mortal terror
of being

swept away

Of losing my footing
as the storm's velocity increases
under the
humid kiss of
new skies

Of standing in awe
on a final dawn as
I watch the waves
crash over me
in a new creation myth,

And Iím afraid.

Of falling

Of flailing

of watching with unglazed eyes
as the water pushes me to my back
and covers my final thoughts
with you
Written by Betty
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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