After the Storm

I should’ve listened to the forecast

Before I went to work that day

Then I would have known

That Storm Bernice was on its way

But off I went, unaware

My home was in its path

And I came home to witness

The awful aftermath

For though my house was able

To withstand that gale force nine

I appeared to be missing

All my washing from the line

I spotted my grey trousers

Round a tree branch in a knot

And a pair of lycra boxers

Hugged a chimney pot

A white shirt soared above my head

Like a kind of cordless kite

And a freshly laundered bath towel

Obscured a traffic light

A t-shirt hung from the minute hand

Of the local town hall clock

And into a jet plane engine

Went a dozen of my socks

Like a flag unfurled a tea towel

Flapped on a weather vane

And my new Fred Perry polo shirt

I’d never see again

Note: I know that gale force 9 is one short of storm force, but I utilised some artistic licence.

Published on Medium.