Weather

Where we lived, nothing blew over. We kept our fingers to the air and instruments around the house. We kept our gizmos to the weather. Even when it did not affect us, we knew to be prepared. We could see low clouds on night’s horizon, we could hear wind pounding across the woods. We felt … Continue reading “Weather”

Where we lived, nothing blew over.
We kept our fingers to the air
and instruments around the house.
We kept our gizmos to the weather.
Even when it did not affect us,
we knew to be prepared.

We could see low clouds on night’s
horizon, we could hear wind
pounding across the woods. We felt
heavy rains lashing the roof.
We cowered in the shower.

We could let nothing go
unnoticed. We counted every cloud.
We always had our umbrellas
so the sun could not leave us blind.

Author: Janice

A creative. Lifelong Marylander. After many odd jobs of adolescence and college, have always worked as a writer and published essays, op-eds, articles, and poetry in national news media and small presses. Collection of poetry, "Saturday at the Gym", about boxing, aging, and motherhood; collection of artwork and poetry, "What Are Mothers For?" On the verge of an empty nest for the first time in 30 years, my question is: What am I for?