Towards distant skies
eyes wander,
minds ponder,
at storms to come.
Heralded by
ominous clouds
and uncertainties,
unrecognisable seasons
arrive and linger,
to spread veiled threats
that stay to mar
known landscapes.
How I yearn
for the predictability
of years gone by,
when winter
meant blinding
whiteness that
cap mountains
and gentle snow
buffeting cities,
or when summer skies
were left free from
autumns tears
Alas, confusion
now reigns where
trees know not
when to shed
and flowers
when to bloom.
The storms that
come bring
bewilderment
to rewrite
expectations.
Such storms
care not
for our suffering,
nor has time
for ignorance,
or for carelessness.
They come
to spite us,
to remind us
of the change we bring
and the storm
we are.
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