We're away visiting Andy's son in the HOT south until next Tuesday, so my posts may suffer...here is a poem inspired by the walk I had with Mike as described in yesterday's post.
evidence
sometimes the aftermath
is like the grounded helicopter
blades that clog the gutter,
a spongy mass of organic material
compressed into geometric patterns
where water once engulfed them
it takes a shovel
to clear them away
othertimes, the result is subtle,
like grass clippings that etch the edges
of yesterday's puddles,
Nagasaki-silhouettes bio-chalked in green
yet barely seen
a stiff wind is enough
to blow them away
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