Thursday, December 23, 2021

SYNOPSIS

 



The weather was unsettled yesterday –

clouds massed as troops for battle.

Today, I watched the sunrise 100 kms east,

a narrow horizontal wound,

slashed in the flank

of the black stallion

that filled the sky.

 

Traffic grinds to a crawl,

and flash floods isolate

the poorer neighbourhoods.

The weatherman warned us

with time-lapse radar.

 

His messages were brief.

Did Fate’s finger

write in those synoptic isobars

of what’s to come?


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