Happy Anniversary

At the old house, in the old storms, there was no harness in the clouds. We stood just inside the screen door, aluminum, a spraying radiator cap to steam. We watched the sky growl and break the flowers we planted the day before gone parched. Our feet kept telling us we were safe on the wood floor we knew by detail and grain. And you held my shoulders as a sentinel. And we stared out at the world from the same plateau. Fast forward to hurricanes and the bristle blown winds of change. Ten years of whipping weather and comprehension of the very inside belly of a storm and here we are. At the new house, in a new storm, with our oil skinned tarp as a tent over our heads. We stand just inside the glass door, dry as wire bones with the clearest vision of all. We watch the sky growl and redden the tomatoes to sweet that were lacking the taste of the earth just moments prior. Our feet reassure us that we are indeed safe because they are touching each other at the toes. And you hold my shoulders as a sentinel. And we stare out at the world from the same plateau.