June 24

comment 1

Where does it come from?
The sky, like rain,

or from the far corner
at night, when the world

is rendered in ground glass,
from outside, a front,

low pressure or high–
I’ve never believed

in inexorable, but these days
do give me pause


As Simon said to Garfunkle,
I get the news I need

on the weather report
and as God said to Noah,

hey, you better build a boat,
although charitably,

a flood could be billed
as an uprising–


Today on the rooftop
several swallows

flying or falling
at unexpected angles,

one hungry sparrow
and water pooled

on aluminum tables
and no one else around,

the city below a sea
of sound and indiscriminate

figures, and in low clouds
an airplane, felt, not seen,

so much bearing down
even up here

1 Comment

  1. The last stanza made me laugh. I do enjoy reading your words. Thanks for the poem to start my day.


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