The plaster cracks,
as the wind pulls upward —
roaring like a great hungry beast.

He claws at the boards,
the screeching of nails
fills the air as though
he’s tearing  a walnut shell.

He wants to reach inside,
grasp the meat,
dig it out and roll it ’round
in his teeth-filled mouth.

But he is famished;
his strength is waning.

Perhaps, if we hold a bit
of him inside our lungs,
he’ll tire and let go.

Maybe this shell will hold
and we will still find
our shelter inside.

Prompt #9 of the April 2014 Writer’s Digest Poem-A-Day Challenge

For today’s prompt, write a shelter poem. Shelter might be a structure like a house, apartment, or hotel. Shelter could be a tent or cardboard box. Shelter could be an umbrella, overpass, cave, or car. Shelter could be a state of mind, part of a money laundering scheme, or any number of interpretations.

Link to the prompt: