Beetlebung and Kettlehole--April Poems

Tempest

warnings on the blitz
no outbreak yet, but
a hurricane’s on the way
fears, whirlwind thoughts,
I have to get out of my head

ripping in frantic pace
my myths in recurrence
no tripping on stones
erratically lodged, but
crafty magnetism to appease barriers

bewilderment graces your face
you pull the shutters down
and lock all doors, terrified
if only I could visit the hidden rooms in you
discreetly, to stay safe

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Prompt: a visit, visitor, or visitation...