The End Of Weather As We Knew It

you will say suppressing a smile

I am speaking about the news on earth

but that is not the point at all

I mean the inner weather from our birth

how it shifts across the violet skies

and boils up in its own particular last ditch summers

and when it snows there it is a forever

composed of such intricate ballets

the soul never grows tired of enacting them

the end of weather as we knew it has arrived.

the pinkish amber of morning no longer comes to mind.

you breathe but not steadily

so many paths are overgrown with vines

so many trees pruned back in Time

beside unrecognize=able housing.

we are at the end of weather as we knew it

the clarion autumns understand

leaf by leaf the life that was gold we are leaving

for something we don't yet understand

and yet hope for life renewed is a fountaining tree;

the far off bells calling us to a life without forecasts at all.

mary angela douglas 29 october 2021