Hurricane

I pass over the sunken field
The swamp makes me hungry
My march, implacable and unforgiving

In my center is peace but it is fleeting
I see the ground below, it seems of another realm
Not one of air and ozone, of storm and rage

I caress the zephyrs that swirl in my being
They receive them with purrs and giggles
My misty pets unafraid of the rain

I can’t hear the curses and pleas
The screams are sucked into my wind
They become a part of me and who I am

I drift further over the land
My march slows, my rage abates
Until I fade back into the air that birthed me