Tornadoes and Corncakes

I woke up with a bearing down in my bones
It made me snap at the pan fried corncakes
And my oaf late waking boyfriend
A long hot shower couldn’t dowse the phantom ache

The wind took on a feral sound outside
It must have been picking up bogies hitching on the way

I did the sensible thing in a chaise lounge
I let a book read me wrapped up warm
The sky was  pillowed and slate
A roof under construction

Stuffing down the misery feeling
Stuffing my feet into shoes
I agreed to go walking
A Grumble plodding forth into the Wet Crunch-
Salad bowl colony New England
And I without a fork

Black water dogs open their mouths loud
Actively displaying their aggravated state
Somewhere a cow bemoans the same feelings
Crow on wing argues with a blue little cousin
We are together on the brink of electrical breakdown
In the chaos of wind and ice I run now laughing mad
My heart joiks the storm battle with it’s own thunder
(Joikks and awaaaaaaay!)

On a dryer side when I look out the window
Done with the sprint and still drenched
The sky is as open wide as a resurrection house
And I am freed from my sense of tornadoes