I know. I know. It’s looming there.
There.
I can see it:
Sickly yellow mountains of steam
Towering in thunder, ripping asunder
The grounded scrub which fights, fails, and falls.
I didn’t plan, I didn’t think
About the storm driving nearer.
I saw it, you saw it.
The first strikes of rain
May have wet your face
But you didn’t pause.
You grabbed up your raincoat
And forgot. Just forgot and ignored
The billowing blasts of wind,
The ominous offense of rolling
And crackling thunder.
The storm moves with time’s pace,
Pulled by the constant, corded muscle
Of twin horses: God’s great gyrating galaxy
And Man’s manufactured months.
I know the outcome of the storm,
But I cannot prevent it. It is His will,
I suppose, but I will close my windows
When it cuffs my world, vain as it may be.
It will blow me off to Whonosware,
Tear my hands from my life and my love.
In Whonosware I will sit stunned,
Still struggling to fill the gaping…
You may visit me in Whonosware.
That will help.
Well.
I know. I know. It’s looming, looming.
See?
We can both see it.
And we can hold each other until it gets here.
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1 comment:
I like this one. I know you're not as fond of poems that don't rhyme (yeah I can spell that word!) but this one worked well. I see the internal rhyme, the assonance and alliteration. I think you were right to title it college because otherwise it would be trickier to figure out what the storm symbolizes. In the end I might have gotten it. Who knows.
But I do know that I need a new raincoat, mine's getting soaked.
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