Bedlam When Storm Finds You Out
Listen to poem:
We heard the alert!
Big storm coming!
Batter down the hatches.
Tie down the loose stuff.
Board up the windows, sandbag the doors.
Remove any debris that may fly around.
We did it all, in plenty of time.
But, we looked around dismayed.
The neighbors did nothing.
Many were away, out of reach, not contactable.
We saw that their properties were a vulnerable bedlam mess.
With debris, loose stuff, dead trees, everywhere.
Decided it was too risky to trespass.
Hoped for the best!
But, storm did not heed our call
to be blessed as best dressed!
The storm hit hard!
Debris flew all around -
punched holes in our roof and walls;
smashed our window with flying junk;
neighbors trees flew and topped on our fences.
It was bedlam, a total disastrous mess,
not made by any of our stuff!
But, who can we blame.
To whom does the tin sheets
flying around belong?
Who owned the tree branch
that smashed out our roof?
Who had the neglected and blocked
their drain that flooded our yard?
The truth was there was no one
who we could blame, for the damage done
other than the storm, long gone.
For the debris that flew could not
be traced to anyone.
The storm had found us out!
Called us out!
We were in the same boat
as the neighbors who had copped out,
and neighbors who were out at the time.
All together hit hard, damaged, blameless,
found out and counted out.
Copyright © John Anderson | Year Posted 2025
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