still air

the street so quiet now nothing not a breath of air so still it almost feels a solid thing somewhere north and west of here there is dragon breath lying red across the land they tell me it is coming my way close and even closer the air will move when it comes they say …

think I star

up through the clouds I think I see stars when I think I see stars I see clouds again the night is so dark I see only so far when I think I see stars I'm in doubt again the dark of the night is a portent of rain but I believe rain when it …

april might as well

april I thought your storms would fill the sky I thought you would rain I thought thunder perhaps chilled lightning what do I see but blue above a whisp of white heat you might as well have remained the summer ~

child

I was born in the thunder birthed to the whip of the wind my father was known as the weather a cloud was my mother the womb and I would ride -saddled- the storm bucking the blitz strikes of lightning raining on earth down below I am cumulous I am cirrus I am the feather …

the bazaar

misterr misterr I got a day for you what sorrt a day you want misterr misterr he walked slowly but determinedly through the bazaar taking in the sounds misterr hey misterr and the sights letting the whole hyperactive milieu with its raucous cacophony wash over him as he walked I got a day what sorrt …

an ellipse of weather

a distortion of the moon caused by refraction through a cloud turned an orb into an ellipse into an egg though still dressed in lemon the chorus led by blackbirds sang to celebrate the change while I just watched her sailing across the sky and thought of rain and light shows and thunder thought of …

atomic hail and shine

small hail is leap and bounding on the path that leads to the washing line leap and bounding on the grass that bears its mild beating well what else can it do and as quickly as this chaos of bouncing white (like atoms in urgent search of collision) has begun so it has ended and …

day grey

day come fall down with the rain on me damp cloak in a mist my shoulders no warm only weather grey come roll over the ghosts vague shaped shiver cold my up and my down roll over the ghosts still talking © Frank Prem, 2017 July 2017 Poem #07: in repose

a waking wind

in the dead of night the sleeper wakes to the whistling wind woo woo-woo returned from a journey to Antarctica woo woo-woo sleep on in the soft light of a new day gray the sleeper wakes to a pattering woo woo-woo rain has come dragged behind the flaring skirt of a whistling wind woo woo-woo …

waiting westerly

the wind raises its intensity before a change that's full of weather I am lying in the darkness waiting for the rain the stars I watch through a window are swallowed by slow cloud and leave nothing but the restlessness of leaves like me they are waiting the weather westerly © Frank Prem, 2017 April 2017 Poem …