A Woman

I look like someone familiar

to you;

you smile at me as we are

attending to our coffee.

What you cannot see is

what’s going on behind the

smiling face, manicured hands,

cream stirred into coffee.

On the surface I am

a pleasant sea of calm,

but underneath there is a

vortex in constant flux.

I look harmless, believe me,

I know,

but every now and then

straight line winds come out of nowhere.

The weatherman is at a loss

to describe or predict

the storm’s fury and course;

he only knows to say, “Danger.”