San Gabriel Valley Poetry Quarterly

Gerda Govine Ituarte

Storm

Mother nature in pain throws new red shiny stiletto heels across the sky.

Smacks Santa Ana’s face--eyes blackened, mouth swells, sneezes, coughs.
Upchucks frosty fast-moving wind. Howl loud and long. Cause sleepless nights.
Uprooted age old trees drop like matchsticks. Electric lines snap, spin spread
darkness. Red-eyed candle light welcome morning. Santa Ana whistles spot
mother waiting, arms folded. She beckons whispers enough!