massed on the living room floor
like i was watching the edges
of an approaching storm
out over the ocean
that appeared more like the painting
of an approaching storm
as it made its way slowly to land
seeming to be static
so that there was an eerie sense
of calm that it would
never make landfall
until with fury
it would avail itself upon the shore
bringing rain and wind
and flood and destruction
and I would be left there
after the clouds had passed
with the task of disassembling
each discarded cardboard box
after the contents inside had
been found removed and inserted
into their final resting place.
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