Category: weather/storms
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Rhinocerous rain
Driving north out of Nashville, traffic thickens to a slow confession near Fort Campbell, brake lights bloom like votive candles stretching out into Kentucky. I think of Thomas Merton, cloistered among the knobs and forests of Gethsemani Monastery. Where silence became a discipline. Prayer was not an escape, but another way of entering the world.…
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Lessons I learned from trees
no matter the girth of your trunk, the thickness of your bark, the depth of your roots if you lean too far to the right, too far to the left, too far forward or too far back, the heady weight of your branches will gather up the wind and snap you off at your base…
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Change 2026
thunder proceeds the storm the flash – the swirling winds we were not deaf or blind we disregarded warnings we got caught in the rain and only have ourselves to blame and only we can drag ourselves inside dry off and change our clothes 6-13-26
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Leave a window open
When clouds and thunder pulled curtains over the sun, momma would read scriptures written in the sky. She have us throw open the southwest windows, because if the pressure could somehow equalize and if the house had enough fresh air to recite prayers and if the walls held no fear of dying, the house would…
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haiku for an overcast day
basking in half-light no frog or heron in sight lone lily blooms white 9-27-25
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Rain
Morning rain rattles in gutters and drains, washes the street, pushes tired leaves from limbs, resuscitates thirsty moss. Somewhere offshore a hurricane spins, spawns riptides, pulls sand from beaches, keeps disappointed tourists inside. The forecast says the storm will miss us. But other storms more dangerous than this gather out where we can’t see. While…
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Spinning toward munchkin town
(“For they sow the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind.” Hosea 8:7) I don’t care if sowers of anger, inherit a whirlwind. They can reap what they sow. But a storm front has no discernment, no sense of justice; it roars across the landscape and spins until it is spent. Sowers of the wind…
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after the snowcalypse haiku
Outside my window Sun melts last patches of snow I’m okay with that 1-25-25
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highway 21
racing through the dark lightning strobes the road wipers slap windshield hazard lights ahead pull off the road only nineteen miles to go fear is not my modus operandi I race through the dark an invincible fool weaves through traffic I hope they don’t overreach their skill set and take me with them before the…
My husband's poetry 