If I’d lived my life by what others were thinkin’, the heart inside me would’ve died

I was just too stubborn to ever be governed by enforced insanity

Someone had to reach for the risin’ star, I guess it was up to me

"Up to Me" by Bob Dylan)

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Weather Management

Evening’s pale charger has catapulted 
the charcoal horizon
sun’s chariot streaks 
rainbow sherbert-breasted
cirrho-cumulus tufts
in swirls of chemtrails
painted by solar geoengineers.

I hear him boasting of his masterpiece [as though he or she were not the handiwork of God!]:

“No Leonardo is required!
I have no pretension to artistry
and yet look:
even Rubens could not geoengineer such a sunset.
This is the 21st century!”

And so, the sunset continues to fade in velvet-stroked cerulean blues over roseate tufts of cotton candy pink diffused light 
now chroma is disappearing 
the cicada’s song rising to yet another crescendo and falling to a whisper with the tree frog
over a chirping cricket polyphony. 

Such dense music.

Evening’s charger has catapulted into her charcoal palace
as the music of pennsylvania’s woods wafts and fades.
In late august all is wan and sear.


Such dense beauty.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

You bring the reader on the scene
Organic: the factor and element of time
Invites your vantage point and a stroll towards the transcendental perspective

Scriptor said...

Thanks for your comment Al!