Words from her mouth boom like tankers bursting
continually warning of doom and catastrophe
threatening consequences for choices.
The ominous clouds, intimidating skies,
waters laced with oil–looming.
Indiscretion seen by all
as a mother perceives
the misdeeds of the daughter.
Rebellion so strong, staring into her eyes.
I know, she knows, the waves know.
Weighted down, stifled,
struggling to sustain their rhythm.
Enduring, rolling slowly,
waiting for the wind to nudge the oil,
creating a tiny fissure–escape.
Living Northwest Style 