Susan Black Allen 

For me,
poetry
is like 
breathing.

​

And I’ve held my breath
for nearly 
fifty-four,
long 
years.

​

Beware 
hurricanes 
in the Atlantic.

​

Typhoons
in the Pacific. 

​

The tempest’s 
gonna blow,
when it’s ready
for the show.

​

The storm,
she’s a comin’.