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A Windy Day
Monstrous storms coming in,
the house already shaking at its calmest,
preparing for the worst to happen.
Windows crack, and trees fall,
nothing I would wish on anyone.
The house I live in.
No one is around to help, doing this all on my own.
Worried, scared, and hopeless,
will I have anything left by the end of this?
Everything I own lays in this house, and without it,
nothing remains.
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On Stowe Wengenroth’s, House at Port Clyde, 1938