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Little Katrina
The winds pick up; I know its coming
She’s got that look in her eyes
The sound of drumming
I look to take cover
From the projectile things
Like flying cars and swing-sets
And sirens and screams
The T.V. flashes: Hurricane Warning
I try to prevent it
“Just wait until the morning”
It’s too late, its started
She’s up and she’s crying
I can’t imagine all the spinning
And the things that are flying
She’s not happy and it shows
As she pounds on the ground
Whirling and whirling
Spinning round and round
Her name is Katrina
That’s what they’re both called
The hurricane hitting and the child I scold
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