weather poem

Saint Paul, Minnesota. U.S.

(spring weather report in the midwest, 4/2004)

Storm grey system
responds wolfishly
to our juicy subductive depression—

mares’ tails & question marks above,

wondering if the air’s
as rich and stimulating
over there, as here.

Only way to know
is to leave Spokane
and the Montana waste places,

to swift in skies over Rapid City
and the Missouri’s
bluffs, to our sweeter

climatic currents.

Then overflow
into volumes, high
as the mesosphere, that

stoop to kiss the Great Lakes
and the simple
rolls of land

that lie beyond.

© Tom Lewis. 2008.

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