The Surge – Robert Herrick


Slowly swirling from
the ocean’s depths,
like a leviathan lurking,
lurching and launching
the waves up to the
clouded sky, like a
whirlwind washing
the waters of the sea
tumultuously turning
and yearning to spread
its monstrosity to land,
falling with high winds
and sea foam and
briny sea waters with
salt and silt slamming
within the high waves,
and laying in remnant
upon roads and city streets.

History made by high
winds and waves and circumstance,
and yet its power removed the
power from many homes by
swirling slowly from the oceans depths;
the surge lurking in the tides
wearing away barricades
and climbing crest by crest
by trough and undertow as
bursts and gusts in the
cloudy skies, whipping around
cool rain, and calamity
calls down a callous hand
wave by wind by washout.

Terror comes as a surge from
the depths and sky making
some slip away into the
whirling wickedness
of the winds and
waters and waves.


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