Just on the other side of the window,
March winds are banging the hell out
of my house and trees and utilities.
.
It’s dark so I can only imagine the mayhem.
Usually, I wake to just some fallen branches.
.
They say weather is getting worse,
more severe, just like politics and children
running rampant without any filter.
Each generation wants to be the one
that survives the worst but we’re all just
spiraling as far from Eden as possible-
just with new vernacular.
.
The sky is roaring now, deep in the night
and I think of summer storms
and the relief of the after. I can’t imagine
the warmth or the green right now,
but I know it’s coming again.
The Word Rummager 
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