While I was doomscrolling through the day’s news of politics and pandemic, the wind began to rise. I didn’t really notice at first, until I began to mistake it for a distant train passing through the village. Then the “train” arrived in a twister of maple leaves outside the window and the house began to shake. Each gust stronger than the last. The weather outside, the clamor on my screen and the weather in my head converged into extended metaphor.
Election Reflection
From far off, a low susurration heralds its coming.
On the next hill leaves fly, pennants of golden smoke.
Then louder, higher, the nearby treetops begin to
bob and dance, the windows rattle, the studs groan.
Louder still, rising and falling, pines rock back
and forth, worrying at their roots. Saplings bow
and snap back. Wheelie bins flop open and topple.
Yard signs tear loose, cartwheeling down the road.
Hold tight; anything could happen – windows blow
in, roof rip away, hailstones the size of baseballs
pounding the car to junk. You never know what
big wind will bring, or what will still be standing.
As always – well done.
and boom boom boom
thanks