Global warming has caused huge fluctuations in weather patterns and seasons are not as they used to be. Apart from extremes, the weather is now unreliable and random in its unfolding. Phillis used to call my nature poems ‘weather reports’ and to this end, I continue. Hope you enjoy this report of today’s feelings and display…
A pensive sun stares through wispy clouds,
grey painted streaks across the morning blue,
and heat today subsides from yesterdays
fierce burn and gloom.
Respite so welcomed the weight now lifted,
as summer stretches its bold intent
in balanced hope of comfort’s ease
alternate paths to strive and vent.
So still this foreboding day aspires,
not burn but unknown the mood it evokes,
so ominous its timeless thoughts,
not yet sown the day laid out in scope.
Even leaves and shoots have ceased their growth,
as if mid-breath of anticipation,
while a patchwork sky above pervades
each thought and machination.
Rain so distant on the radar,
is but an idea lost deep in transgression’s armour,
this dryness the pledge of an unkind season’s will,
cannot restore the ardour.
Instead, we are captive to change’s eccentric wile,
days like spinning coins determine fate,
and summer will in burning days and airless nights,
give credence to what we as humans sate.