I'm heading out soon to attend a poetry open mic with a friend. We might be crazy. Well, we are crazy, for poetry's sake.
Saint Marty is tired of shoveling.
Spring
Snow Storm
by: Martin Achatz
The
weather guy, in his ugly tie,
Predicts
six to twelve inches tonight,
A
spring storm out of Alaska, Canada,
Winds
as strong as cattle trains.
Tomorrow,
I will wake to this creature,
This
force of different fronts from ocean,
Mountain,
glacier, tundra. I’ve heard
It
said a butterfly’s wings, trembled
On
African savannah, causes hurricanes
On
the Gulf Coast, another flood
In
the Big Easy, wipes out Mardi Gras
For
good, an oil slick of jazz
On
magnolia, pelican wing, bayou.
I
wonder if the collective gasp in Japan
After
earthquake and tsunami caused
This
early spring snow, set into motion
Winds
across the Pacific, bore
That
shock and grief through salt,
Through
supermoon, mixed it with cries
Of
caribou and polar bear, brought
It
to me, to my home, snow falling
On
roof and car, snow on street, lawn,
Gas
station, church steeple, snow
Everywhere,
heavy as a thousand souls.
Tonight,
when I press my lips to my son’s
Fingers,
somewhere on this planet
Rain
will start to fall in a desert place,
Filling
the land with green life.
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