After the storms
we clean up.
We dry the wet towels used
to sop up the floor.
We look at the black marks on our white ceiling and wonder
Will bleach clean that up?
Or do I have to find the leak, fix it, replace the drywall and paint?
Do I wait until rainy season ends before I even bother?
After the storms we rush outside,
soak up the sun,
set the hammocks back up,
resume water aerobics.
The garbage gets cleared off the beach.
The smaller driftwood is gathered into piles and burned.
The larger driftwood, the size of trees, rests on the beach.
While the washed up boats from past storms slump into their graffitied roles as landmarks and remind us all of how bad it could’ve been.
