CURRITUCK SOUND
By Cathy Roberts
The water sits, a gray slate
unbroken by land or man.
All that disturbs its surface
are white caps served up by the wind.
A shimmer, a change of hue,
see now in the distance the threatening clouds.
No longer do the white dunes give comfort across the way.
Feel the walls shake as
rain and thunder assail us.
The wind, racy and wild now
taps the roof to test my wakefulness.
The sound explodes as
millions of harsh rain drops invade its body.
There is no more gray now,
only white foam, churning in anger, in defeat.
A shimmer, a change of hue.
The clouds depart and the sun returns.
The sound is a mirror of blue.
Boats ease out now, all danger past.
Out of the distant mist, the white dunes
arise once more, a shield against the sea.