Father

By Carly Floyd

12/27/09

he is the unpredictable terror

a storm

always clouds -

fragile hints of what might come

in the fury he can unleash

with very simple cause

like a butterfly taking flight

in a distant place.

sometimes, it takes quickly.

other times it stews and

flashes, thunders, hails

rattles window frames.

sometimes I wish it would

break the glass and

let the wind and rain

fly in and

carry me away.

but the tempest always stops

before I have anything substantial

to fear.

constant paranoia.

I know now to always wear a raincoat

and ward against the sleet.

for a storm will always be

just on the horizon.