Strange Days
July 15 2010


The weather is strange, these days
we all agreed —
hard to predict, extreme.

There were always reliable milestones
each season.
A guaranteed white Christmas,
the May long weekend swim
— a quick immersion, shivering.
And the first real heat wave
only after school’s out.

So I can imagine what it‘s like
to have lived through an earthquake.
When your solid foundation is jerked away,
what you took for granted
gone.

I keep waiting for a normal day
the way I remember it.
Instead of the strange machinations of a planet
that feels almost alien.
Like watching the sun
rise in the west.
Like living
under blood-red skies.

But today was perfect —
high summer, beside the lake,
a picture postcard home.
Something to keep hold of
when the average has become exceptional,
when we start doubting progress,
when we’ve begun to question our faith.