Destruction

I wake u in the morning to look out my window and see the moon.
This is unusually strange sight for I usually see the ocean.
And this makes me quite blue.
I walk out my bedroom onto the porch.
I am quite shocked because it's never this hot in Maine,
a great day to surf and I end up laughing.

As a cold wind blows I abruptly stop laughing,
And closer comes the moon.
Waves beat the beach, blowing in from the ocean.
But I cannot see it which makes me blue.
I go inside away from my porch.
This is not my Maine.

Calm, fresh, and smelling of salt is MY Maine.
In the wind I hear laughing.
Angrily I glare at the moon,
which is making the waves grow larger in the ocean.
I call to my dog Blue,
And he runs up onto the porch.

I don't want to go out onto the porch,
And see what is happening to my Maine.
Hear the insane laughing
of the wind, see the moon
getting closer and closer. Hear the ocean
whipping the shore. I don't want to get Blue.

But I let Blue 
in. And we look out the window, past the porch.
And watch the storm destroy my beautiful Maine.
Nobody is laughing.
Sending destruction is the moon.
    The one that gets blamed is the ocean.

The usually calm, clear ocean, 
A gorgeous color of aqua blue.
The one I love watching while swinging of my porch.
What's happening to my Maine?
The place I spend every summer laughing 
with my family on the beach, watching the moon. 

Blue is a sign of sadness, not laughing.
Which is what I feel now, the moon has made the ocean
destroy my porch but not my Maine.

Jw