GALE WARNING
We who live near the shoreline have learnt day by day
what the weather will be like from signs we find plain:
When frogs turn quite dark, and the sea becomes grey,
and cats and dogs start eating grass it means rain.
But when waves’ booming is heard in the sound it
means a gale.
It is quiet, and I get on with things as I choose,
but I feel somehow restless from omens I see.
If I turn on the wireless, or read the day’s news
Frightful weather in gusts I can sense close to me.
A storm’s brewing when gulls come and visit me:
A storm’s brewing when gulls come in flocks.
Evening mail has arrived from a nephew in Spain.
He has now disembarked with a gun in his hand.
In a cave near the Ebro where bombs fall like rain
there’s a sea dog from Utvik who now fights on land.
And when black-backed gulls make for the high ground it
means a gale.
When will they come back, those who take to the sea?
It’s a good thing they know every trace, every sign.
I have ears that can hear, and I see what I see:
I hook fast my windows, though it’s still as can be.
For when waves’ booming is heard in the sound it
means a gale.
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