Portents
portents
sky darkens deeper and deeper
turning toward the gloom
of pseudo night. silence in the trees
leaves batten down their fragility.
far out past Christian Island
the rumbling, grumbling begins,
slowly stalking the land of summer dreams,
echoing and emerging into my bay
the sky is having a tantrum as
a frustrated child stomps
about my roof spilling
rushes of beating rain.
flowered faces
once turned toward the sun
now droop their heads
beneath the watery onslaught.
roots quiver with expectation
of streams of sustenance
renewing the earth, refreshing the air.
nature takes care of its own.
we shelter as a tortoise
in our cabin. peering out
disconsolate at having our
reverie so thoughtlessly interrupted.
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