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Montrice Mitchell Poem
That Miami weather is something else,
almost like life itself, raw and uncontrollable.
Sometimes its raining in front of you
and other times its raining behind.
Occasionally it only rains on your house
at least thats what it seems like.
The meteorologist says that its a
slight chance of thunderstorms but
how can one ever predict these
sunny skies with a veil of
dreadful clouds full of percipitation
trailing in the distance along the horizon;
That you can barely see because the
sun is bright so you have to use your hands
as a shade for your eyes and
a fan for your face and neck and chest.
I mean it really gets hot down here,
and it storms and somtimes its freezing.
Similar to life because at times
things are peaceful and other times
life is so tumultuous and filled with
violent winds, and massive bolts of
electricty and Gods baritone voice
echoing miles away yet clear as ever.
Cold gray days when everything seems unclear
and there is no warmth near and just when you
think you're done, your blessed with a burst of
sun, or a cool gentle breeze whatever it is
that you need to continue where you left off.
Funny thing, that Miami Weather,
funny thing indeed.
Copyright © Montrice Mitchell | Year Posted 2011
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