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Milton By Mary McGrath Copyright 10/10/24-Medium.com All rights reserved Milton, with his mighty hand points his greedy fingers toward Florida, Eager to grab us into his massive fist and squeeze until we bleed. Out of the darkness we wait, suspended, as his wind begins to whisper, until he starts breathing hard, Inhale, exhale, gathering strength and then he howls, laughing and whistling through the trees and eaves of our state, wheezing from exhaustion. The palms flap back and forth, “I told you so,” they say as they break and fly while we watch the eye go by staring as he tries to decide which town to devour next. Hungry, he touches down churning through towns leaving splinters floating on the water like broken toothpicks, As another city is flattened and whipped into submission, I see how small we are as nature scolds us for our greedy ways, and how he will always win.
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