The coming storm is ominous
as pungent and unruly air
sandblasts my face and sunburned chest
while tangling tufts of errant hair.

Wind pushes forth grey-bellied clouds,
a gallant fleet of full-sailed sloops
that slowly glide 'cross sunless skies.
East-bound they trudge like grim-faced troops.

Once placid water in the cove
now slaps the shoreline boist'rously.
The bobbing white caps farther out
crest faster as they roll toward me.

Soon huge drops smack my naked flesh
and pock my footprints in the sand.
In vain I dodge the pelting rain
while seeking refuge more inland.

I can't outrace the sheets of rain
that blind my view and batter me.
I sprint back o'er a trail of planks
that stitch the mounds of sand I flee.

At last I reach a covered nook
where I can safely watch the storm.
Cyclones of sand zig-zag the beach
like angry hornets in a swarm.

Way out beyond a bleak expanse
forked lightning strikes the wind-torn lake.
Then deaf'ning thunder rips to shore.
It hurts my ears, my eyelids ache.

This sudden storm stampedes on by,
and soon the lake's serene again.
Seagulls careen in cloudless skies
as I reseek the place I'd been.