​Vortex

Rain scatters its tacks
onto a thin, felt roof​

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and untrimmed branches
drop their bombs –

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wind is zinging with water –
skylights sizzle like hot fat

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frying up an abundance;
And the house is cosier

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intact, keeping the world at bay;
And would you, waking, raise

one fragile arm to protect –
or mouthing appropriate words

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calm what rises & is vexed –
even into the vortex?