top of page
  • write4hire

You Don't Need a Weatherman ...

Subterranean Homesick Blues

Side 1, Track 1

You don’t need a weather man to know which way the wind blows

Months before an unrepentant con man, likely a pathological liar, would be sworn in by his shady cronies in Congress, I had clipped the winterberry holly,

seeded the tiny yard, laid down a curving

brick path around the sago palm,

and for a few sunny moments, weary,

contented in my skin, I sat on the side

porch in a white wicker chair, late

afternoon blue sky orange sun behind

the elementary school, a glass of red wine

on the table, small reward for tending

my own meager garden in this narrowing

life, Spanish moss swaying from a live

oak, Mike tossing a stick for sweet Rosie

in the field across the way, and though

the chipper Channel 22 meteorologist

had promised a beautiful weekend ahead,

from this easy perch, I could not not see

black wall clouds forming on the horizon,

a blizzard of fair-weather patriots

swirling in the eye of cyclonic Lucifers

storming beaches at high tide, under-

mining foundations, roofs flying off

in damnable funnel clouds, tsunamis

of lies driving good souls underground

peering through cracked glass, darkly

despairing, praying for a warm front

of honor and human decency

to show up again on the radar.

—SL, Port Royal, SC, January, 2023

89 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All


website header.jpg
bottom of page