And the high winds bore down, and the sky
built up that grey wall: derecho.
The taverns by the sea closed their shutters,
and the stands selling battered fries, derecho.
On the boardwalk, pieces of salt-water taffy, half-
eaten funnel cakes oozing grease and cream: derecho.
And the people on every highway, panicked, sought
a clear route for their exodus: derecho.
What’s in your emergency backpack? Beef jerky, mineral
water, flashlight, solar cells? Snap in the sound of derecho.
Yesterday, white and blue sails pretty on the water;
sharp glint of skyscraper glass. Then this derecho.
In response to Via Negativa: How to Sell Your Soul.