rain storm, 31,000

Witness to the ravages of rain

from the jetway of the
24th aisle, I see
the apoplectic storm clouds shoulder left,
right, and like a
predator-on-cur, swoop down
in hawkish bursts of mad
to the geriatric green.

Beneath me, unawares:
bent-spine evergreens in wheeze
entish coppice friends at rest, branches woven lest
they fall
rusting grass, eyes retired on the earth.

Oh, what’s waiting:
a brooding surge beyond the canopies,
a wind whip and the water wreck,
a cataclysmic crack —

but there is no other course
where the sun also rises.

From where I sit,
all I see are swaths of
obfuscating sheer,
ghosts swelling at my feet
while melees ravage
and dry is drowned —
while what I knew is raked
in barking waters —
while old is felled —
no more the standard-bearers standing
ring on ring, green on green

where my homeland used to be.

The age of affirmations

The age of affirmations

We’re big on affirmations these days — but why?

The paralysis of gift

The paralysis of gift

I was always good at school

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