April is National Poetry Month here in Canada, and this year, the theme was Weather. Our town had a call for poetry submissions inspired by that theme, and if selected the various works were to be handpainted on the storefronts of downtown businesses. The only caveat was that the piece had to be fewer than ten lines.
I was inspired to write about a squall rising up on a small boat at sea. In the poem, I played with image and word choice, onomatopoeia, sailors’ superstitions and mythology to personify the squall, and to make it sound like a screaming wind—a tall order in such a short piece. Defined as a sudden violent gust of wind or a localized storm, especially one bringing rain, snow, or sleet; squalls can be treacherous to those at sea. An alternate definition of the word squall is a raucous cry or scream, which led me to the old Norse word “skvala” meaning to squeal. Due to squalls’ fierce and seemingly random nature, they made a perfect subject matter to imply malicious intent rather than just inclement weather.
skvala
Old Norse, meaning to squeal
The squall rose sudden, shrieking
accusations to starboard, hurling
salt-soaked sheets, whirling
coiled rope to serpent, lashing
dawn from darkness
Sea-streaming Furies surfaced maleficent:
Ahoy Sailor! Reef your sails! Sink your temptress! Fling Jonah to the sea!
