The Divination of Weather
May 6 2009


They’re forecasting storms —
tropical air coming,
full of wind, hail, thunder.
What next, I wonder ...
frogs raining down,
a plague of locusts?

Unsettled weather suits me, though,
my mercurial temper
my frequent lows.

I stand outside, looking up,
soaked to the skin
hair streaming.
I count the seconds
‘til lightning and thunder come together,
the air fully charged.
I tempt fate, taunt the gods
with my foolishness —
a drenched scarecrow,
scaring-off nothing.

And then it turns to snow,
filling up the world
slowly covering me over.
An unlikely snowman
in this unseasonable spring,
when the world feels out of sync
and I feel giddy,
that such fantastic things
are possible.



Nothing profound to say about this. I must have been in a magic-realist mood, is all I can imagine.

There were supposed to be thunderstorms today. I think I was up for a bout of wild ecstatic weather; and so ended up a little disappointed. Then I looked at the forecast and saw there was a possibility of snow, of all things!!

I've been thinking for awhile how darkness appeals to me, how all this light makes me feel exposed, somehow under pressure. Which is nothing new: I always seem to have this vaguely unsettled feeling in spring. So I pictured myself hunkering down in dark overcast weather -- in the comfort of darkness, in the protection of a sound building. And then I pictured myself leaving the shelter of the house and immersing myself in the driving rain. The poem is a succession of these images. I simply described what I was seeing. And, as usual, I let the sound of the language take my by the hand and guide me through it.

I also wanted to write something very simple, and something about feeling more than thinking -- which I think I succeeded at. I also wanted a very unstructured conversational tone, which may not have come off quite so well. All in all, though, I'm very pleased with it!