In the brief lull between two gales
we assess the damage,
pick up broken pot pieces,
retrieve the lid of the compost bin
and weigh it down with a rock;
hold our breath
in the forlorn hope
that Storm Imogen has shot her bolt.
For dVerse prompt to write a poem of exactly 44 words, incorporating the word ‘lull’.
You’re not going to believe this, but it’s true. As I was posting this to my blog, it started to SNOW!