Category: weather/storms
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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…
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Hosanna chainsaw
dog walkers reappear park staff armed with chainsaws clear limbs and damaged trees barometric pressure shoulder pain lessens emails and projects beckon me to come inside and work in the key of longing cicadas sing Hosanna chorus celebrate survival of the storm 8-31-23
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400 miles north of landfall
before the wind before the rain before the coming storm the wood is strangely quiet Isolated bird calls out, but does not receive an answer on the corner unaware of the approaching flood a dog barks at the fence you walk under the trees wonder which ones won’t be standing tomorrow 8-30-23
My husband's poetry 