I once saw a waterspout safely from shore
On my sub-tropic isle only one mile wide
As I stood near a house with a small crawl space
For to crawl underneath if I needed to hide

Under the cloud that the siphon was feeding
I watched as its ball of spray crossed the sea
A roar of spray about ten meters high
As the spout snaked along, I hoped not to me

Creeping along past my rockbound shore
T’wards Little Cayman some five miles away
The wind blew away the noise of the spout
Though I strained hard to hear that significant day

But clearly I saw the great spire of water
Spiraling, joining the sea and the cloud
And then the phenomenon hard to believe
“There’s a coilspring within the first coil!” I allowed

For as well as a left-handed helix I saw
Another, right-handed, a counter spire
More water rising? I didn’t know
Just that a clear double coil I espied

A true double helix but not DNA
A giant waterspout near the spot where I stood
Transfixed by the scene but sparing a glance
For the stout little house with its posts of ironwood

In the wild I have seen a Whitetail delivering,
Wolverine, Timber Wolf, Giant Sea Fan
Pacific Dolphin, Blue Bird of Paradise
And concentrical spouts in the isles called Cayman

Full disclosure – the photo doesn’t depict the one
in the poem. No camera was on hand. But both occurred
just offshore on the north side of Cayman Brac. jwp

March 2018
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