Monsoon Time

Link to Roadrunner Meditations: 

https://amethystmagazine.org/2024/10/30/roadrunner-meditations-a-poem-by-david-chorlton/

 

 Link to Pages of Light: 

https://newversenews.blogspot.com/2025/06/pages-of-light-in-dark-times.html

 

 

Link to Intermezzos:

https://eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2025/08/23/intermezzos/

 

Link to Trailthoughts:

https://internationaltimes.it/trailthoughts/

Monsoon Local Time

 

First taste of a storm

on the lips of the moon, wind

roaming lost in the foothills and midnight

holds its breath. Tomorrow’s news

rumbles in the distance

while music from the borderlands plays on

a radio tuned to dreams. The kitchen clock

 

says rain is due, the headlines in the clouds

won’t commit to moisture

or to justice. Darkness breaking open,

secrets in all directions, thunder beats

on Heaven’s door, hummingbirds asleep,

and hawks nesting close to the sky

 

keep one eye open

to be ready

when the first drop falls.

 

 

 

Forecast

 

The forecast for tomorrow is for more of yesterday.

Temperatures and confusion

above average, monsoon and medications,

forgetfulness gathering

in the morning sky

and constant vigilance for stormclouds

in the kitchen. Sunrise

 

five-thirty-seven, the nurse

and clear skies due

on Tuesday. Flash flooding in the mind

where memory once was, but there’s music,

always music

keeping time. At seven-thirty-two the sun

 

remembers to go down.

Thursday is the day

the therapist is due, arriving on a streak

of lightning. She’ll make it rain,

ease aching muscles

and when a dust storm breaks she’ll sweep

 

the air clean with a broom.

 

 

 

 

The Storm of August 25th

 

Clear sky today, sunlight flowing slowly

where yesterday’s dry flood

advanced from east to west and left

the traffic blind. Pull over,

 

the alert advised, to the edges of the world.

Nothing stops fate

when it’s four thousand feet high. It looked yellow,

was dirty, and soft

like a bear. Yesterday had no five

 

o’clock. Time was dust. But more

to come as wind

pulled trees out by their roots and set

 

the scene for rain that was

so happy when it fell

it kissed the desert back to life.

Quiet now, not even

TV’s meteorologist to explain that

 

it was darkness with a beating heart.