Fierce Winds Trample Through The Lands,
Howling Piercing Noises In The Air,
Destroying Walcott-‘s Almond Trees,
Torn Branches, Bent Shapes And Many Falling Leaves.
The Burnt Bodies Watch From Afar,
Critiquing Everything That Is Seen,
Sipping Their Daily Cup Of Pleasure,
Waiting Their Turn To Intervene.
As The Storm Goes On And
All Things Are Attacked,
The Almond Trees Stand Strong
With Their Roots Still Intact.
But Who Am I To Judge Or Even Look Away,
Me -— An Almond Tree Too Sheltered From The Winds,
Away From The Threats Of Being Torn,
Carefully Planted On America-‘s Front Lawn