Forecast I’ve started to think in weather, to measure time that way. I don’t know what you’re saying if you don’t tell me it’s raining, or there’s snow coming, or give me the percentage of sunshine to expect. My friends tell me the frost is gone in Galway. Late-winter is moving through. These and other forecasts, accumulate all the news I need. Snow has softened everything in Santa Fe. Cold ventures in from the wilderness. Gusts roll in the Cascades, transient clouds obscure the summit of Mt. Hood. Rain is expected in Borneo. A heat wave in Sydney. Extremes mark every hour. Hello and goodbye are steeped in tempests.
About the Author: Carolyn Adams’ poetry and art have appeared in Steam Ticket, Cimarron Review, Dissident Voice, and Blueline Magazine, among others. Having authored four chapbooks, her full-length volume is forthcoming from Fernwood Press. She has been twice nominated for both Best of the Net and a Pushcart prize.
Image Credit: Chase Dimock “Albuquerque Stoplight Sunset” (2021)
As It Ought To Be 