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Bipolar
A yellowish day frolics with life, pleasantries errants the air, smiles
growing everywhere as man and beast are one with the leash, 
complacency occupies both time and space, the tenants,
of calmness and serenity moves in. That as being first
analyzed as a minor depression is formulating and
will soon be realized. In the distance, a tad just
beyond far, a patch of sky blues, as neath it
an action is afoot, sufficient for all eyes to
unfavor. Murmuring are furthering while
prudence gives way to swiftness of
a widening of darkening as a hue
from black delegates its face.
Opened window's yields to
shutters as doors closed
behind them, a church
bell then rings in the
swing of things, be
all the fun sinks
to glum. Frail
breeze to
windy,
a road
empties
just like a
playground,
air a bit chilly,
while lovers tryst
is bittersweet. A full
storm now cruising, with
punishing bruising, all victims
for its choosing, going out diffusing,
its right to being abusing, being chaotic
and confusing, with all the blowing and the
throwing, pelting rains pummeling, winds swirling
and twirling all going hither, then a calming brooding
cessations abound, resulting, temporary distracting, until
it wither, then all events that were, returns with great failure,
as everything goes thither, in this questionable type of weather, 
that creeps about seething then erupting one way suddenly break,
then abruptly explodes the other way, as if, on human terms, bipolar.

2020 February 28

*3rd Place*

Your fave poem 2020 not written for a contest
~~John Hamilton

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