I'm home from school today as we wait to see what Sandy will bring. The forecast is calling for rain, wind, and even snow. Folks around here have doing quite a bit of storm tracking. We're as ready as we can be. So, today I'm thinking about weather. Will you write a weather poem with me this week? Leave me a note about your poem and I'll share the results in time for Poetry Friday.
Before you go, check out the fabulous collection of fairy tale poems written for last week's stretch.
The weather forecast for our area today said "Abundant Sunshine" -- an idyllic forecast compared to what all of you are facing on the east coast. Weather is on our minds! Stay safe there.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteGood luck weathering the storm. My son and his family are out there and I've been keeping an eye on the forecasts. Sure hope it is not as bad as predicted. Stay safe. Renee
ReplyDeleteSandy
ReplyDeleteWe lash down furniture
The sun shines steadily
Warm and inviting as tarps are wound
Around skeletons of cushionless patio furniture
Corpses compared to the sunny days of barbeques
Marshmallow roasts and laughing guests
Today has the same sunshine but different air
A suffocating quality
Fill the gas tanks and pray that we don't need them
Watching the news as death is broadcast into our living room
Our Jamaican friend helps us prepare
I wonder if his daughter has been affected
I wonder if that is what he thinks about
As the tropical shores are exploited on our hi-def TV
Will this mean danger for my family
Or just an excuse to have a day inside
Work is cancelled and I try to be sober about it
I dance
I know that I am home because it is dangerous
The sea rises up to lick at cottages
The tarps start to come off of the furniture
My husband and I try wrapping it tighter and we are battered by the wind
He says isn't it nice being sprayed with water off the tarp like spray off the ocean
I agree
My heart pounds as I tie knots that I cannot name but my hands know
He was being sarcastic
My pulse is still that of the sea captain
Bracing against swells and rocking with the tide
I think of the forts built in the woods just the day before
My flimsy wood hut still stands
Maybe I should stay out there
No glass for trees to smash
No power to be lost
Here I lay
Warm house
Day of sewing
No loss of electricity
Freezer still full and safe
Reading articles on the internet
Counter top covered with cans of soup
And yet I still get a call from my boss: no work
And I am fine with that
Hurricane
ReplyDeleteEach more or less
Familiar name
In meteor-
ologic fame
Reverberates—
A spectral bearer
Of rage and pain—
The Rain of Terror.
How does the human
Soul survive
The cruelest Cat-
egory 5
With lifeless fragments
Of this brief
Annihilation?
Roaring grief.
Severe Storm Watch
ReplyDeleteThe power’s gone.
Texting, Twitter,
Facebook, Pinterest,
Kindle, news online—
all gone. The building’s
dark, and the night,
like I’m out camping.
I should hear crickets,
but all I hear is the wind
slamming its blunt
invisible body
against the windows.
No elevator, and if
I take all those stairs
I’ll be outside.
The mugger wind
will jump me. I sit
wrapped in blankets,
waiting for the world
to come back. Waiting
for voices. For power.
—Kate Coombs, 2012
all rights reserved
I'm enjoying this week's poems. Great work, all! My family and I made it through the storm in Rhode Island without much damage. Here's one from a new collection of mine:
ReplyDeleteAfter Rain, We Make Repairs
By Steven Withrow
Patch of dirt, dollop of mud
Stitch of pitch-black gravel
Gummy glop of pine sap
Where stick-ends unravel
Dewy grass for scratchy bed
Touch of dandelion head
Twigs and littered strips of straw
Nesting doves and morning thaw
Copyright 2012 Steven Withrow, all rights reserved
Cyclone
ReplyDeletewhen broody
stormwinds come
to roost, the weather
fair and pillow-y
turns dark and grey
and billowy.
water lilies bow
their heads—like
lovers on a moonlit
night—squirrels and
mice and crickets
steal away.
raindrops, fine
and peppery,
pelt earth’s face
so leathery,
weave us into
feather-grass
and lace.
(c) jgk, 2012
www.facebook.com/juliekrantzbooks
Cyclone
ReplyDeletewhen broody
stormwinds come
to roost, the weather
fair and pillow-y
turns dark and grey
and billowy.
water lilies bow
their heads—like
lovers on a moonlit
night—squirrels and
mice and crickets
steal away.
raindrops, fine
and peppery,
pelt earth’s face
so leathery,
weave us into
feather-grass
and lace.
(c) jgk 2012
www.facebook.com/juliekrantzbooks
DARK SKY
ReplyDeleteDark sky, whipping winds,
Lightning strikes, aquatic bursts,
Nature's toxic mood.
OH MOM!
Whipping winds, dark sky,
Mother Nature starts to cry,
Hurricane season.
(c) Charles Waters 2012 all rights reserved.
Storm Left Behind
ReplyDeleteI did not want to be part of the detritus
this massive Nor’easter leaves behind:
downed branches, like fallen soldiers,
legs and arms lopped off; fall flowers
bent over with the weight of water,
old dowagers and their humps;
leaves cowering in gutters, carpeting
walkways, cluttering window frames.
And me at the airport, my plane canceled,
rerouting a nightmare from which I am not waking,
from which I wish to escape into dreams.
©2012 Jane Yolen all rights reserved