When I was thirteen years old,
My parents woke us up early in the morning
To tell us that a hurricane
Had changed direction, and
Was now coming our way

We huddled in the center of the house
And watched a pine tree bend
Directly over us, as
The very strong winds blew trees
Over and by
Our Florida home

Eventually, the storm blew over, but
Not before largely destroying
Half of the trees
In our yard

We had flashlights,
Batteries,
Water,
Canned and bagged foods —
Which turned out well,
Since the power was out
For several days after

Later that day,
I walked down the hill
Towards the bayou,
And I saw the park I regularly played at
Underwater

Newspaper pictures a day or so later
Showed the destruction at the beach

Being thirteen years old,
I had my priorities:
Within a day, I was
Riding my bike to various convenience stores,
Looking for the latest issue

Which actually still came,
As ridiculously post-dated as ever —

The unimaginable power of nature
Took second place
To the fantasy life of
A thirteen year old boy