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A poem, tonight

"The Hints of Incoming Weather: recorded on SE Hawthorne the night of Tuesday, Sept. 6th, 2016"





Low clouds in the night seem to give the sky lumps.
Light-spill rising from the city defines those lumps; unexpected positive space
In what normally is negative.
That shape will not be there later.
That shape will evolve, metamorph, more
In its hint-of-orange definition.
Maybe it will later birth rain;
It had drizzled on and off.
The clouds highlight horizon-shapes
More subtly than in the sharp relief of day,
Distortingly also: the horizon seems closer.
Winds not necessarily noticeable at ground level are felt by the clouds, not by us
And mold the view and the moisture held within it.

— written 9/6/2016-9/11/2016


© Christopher Walsh, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Christopher Walsh (chris_walsh) with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.