Prodromes
A crow in the fog
Or a black caterpillar on the dust-white asphalt
You see them from afar
And even without recognizing them
You know how to tell them apart.
As you get closer,
You see them coming near.
So too, a hurricane—
You see it coming from afar.
And if you’ve seen it,
You shouldn’t run into the fields
To play like a child
With your father and brother.
Who would ever toss a frisbee
In a storm?
Months go by, then years,
And fifteen years have flown.
I didn’t see the hurricane
From afar,
But the devastation came,
A great noise and then
Silence.
Here I am, alone,
And I cry out for help.
Maybe it was just a nightmare,
My mother holds me close.
She’s still here.
It’s time to play
A little longer,
While outside, the sky
Is already clouding over.