Wisdom Kingdom

To turn the mourning to a song
To claim the weather was your choice
And all the ache a beckoned friend

To want no more than what is now
To plant the flowers among pests
And seeds of doubt in yesteryear

So then, with wisdom, kingdom come

June Will Be Okay

Deciding this morning whether
To be afraid for our weather

For this Earth
For its Underlings

I noticed triumph
Its and Theirs

I saw green, cold tears
Gladness!

There was little left to do
Open wide the window

Cry out
Three cheers for a cold victory!

Undistracted

I watched
You watch
The fleeting snow
Before it took its leave
You put down your go

What did it tell you
What it told me
That bruises aren’t all bad
That time heals
All things

We saw
The three of us
You, me and the sky
The blue-green in our eyes’ skies
Not one can predict us

Heat Storm

While shopping for shoes I shouldn’t have been

Shoes too fancy for anything in these parts

An omen -I mean, a song- wafted on and on overhead

Music too loud as usual, but it caught my conscience 

I could barely make out the words, as airily whispered as they were

Some friend apologizing to another for the weather or for using much too much

Electricity