Sweet-talking the jetstream
into lending moisture
is like pulling pearls
from a gaping blue maw.
Badmouth it once
or thrice
and it'll give you
what for
whatever
that looks like-
a lineup of storm systems
strong-arming a stubborn state,
shepherding it
into the proper temperature range
rain
until it floods
and then some more
to top it off
or finish it off
in case the saturated ground
managed to catch its breath
of cold
or
a cold
shoulder,
a dry heat,
a saturated
sky
as the sun sets
his tools aside
to retire,
trailing his blankets
behind him.
(A/N: Written in October of 2018. I'm thinking of rooting through more poems and just posting the weather ones so they're all in one place. I don't know how many there are, but the weather bug hits me about twice a year. We'll see.
Additional context: Texas.)
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Crumpled Paper
PoetryCliche title? Maybe. It's just unorganized poems. Doesn't need anything fancier. Mostly very straightforward writes about mundane things. No mushy love poems, no dark broody poems. I write somewhere else so this is mostly gonna be an ease-of-refer...
