The sky turned a sickly green
The rains flayed the ground,
The winds beat the tattoo
Of the approaching storm.

No peace found this day,
With the hurricane howling,
Even thrill seekers gone
Under the pounding melee.

Furturity seems distant,
Will anyone survive?
The wrath of the coastline,
The anger of the wind?

At the beach keeping my post,
Wishing I was else where.
Service for the wounded,
If I can but survive.

A debate in the ranks,
As to who would be stuck
With this hurricane duty
And riding out the storm.

So here in full battle dress
Anxiously watching and praying
Hoping the course of the storm
Will veer off the coast.

No stars in the night sky,
But winds and rain lashing
Waves pounding the shore,
Imminent danger approaches.

Laura R
1-30-03