A Soggy Year

When I was young, I knew when rain would fall.
It started late November every year,
in earnest, and the next two months were all
consistently precipitating. Clear
was rare – I wore no suede and had to smear
with waterproofing liquids all my boots.
This winter’s excess storminess, I fear,
is what “new normal” this year constitutes.


This entry was posted in Poetry, Weather and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s