The wind tears at the red flag of my hair
Am I mistress of all I survey?
Ocean, clouds, far off island
A coming storm writes secret messages
into refinery smoke.
Trucks pass, the bridge quakes and
my heart quakes with it–
Our lives balanced on a monster
of concrete and steel.
The fear passes and there is
nothing but the view.
The smokestacks belch a dragon or two
just for me.