Hurricane’s coming; 
Mama drives in the dark. 
Black rain, porch lights, a neon sign. 
A bar, packed. Spilling into the street.  

Harley’s line the curb, 
Wolves, salvation. 
Church after church after church - 
White and empty. It’s not praying hours. 

Tragedy arrived in sudden succession, 
But it’s no quick death. 

My life has been prep work; I don’t go down easy. 

The whipping winds, 
The swaying, the shakes, the unbecoming. 
Outrun the worst of it. 

Heavy hands came and went. They claimed us both. 
Ripped the shirt from my back, 
My hair’s come undone. 

Love is a holy thing. 
Brutal to the very end.