Poem: Shelter

The rain shall bash the heavens,

And it shall be here tonight,

And it shall scream for all to hear,

And it shall be the undoing of the under-prepared.

With the rain coming down as it does,

And without the grace of some god,

We need a way to fight against such things,

And hopefully this interlace,

Of lumber hard fought for,

Shall keep away this raucous from heaven—

Bent down like a bow strung,

And with the piercing bolt of heat.

Special thanks to: Melissa Potter

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