ABOUT THE WEATHER
Linda Eve Diamond
Somehow seeing eye to eye
turned into choosing sides.
At least we can still talk
about the weather.
There’s a nice breeze today, I say.
She says, Ugh. There’s no breeze.
I say we can agree to disagree.
She says I’m wrong.
Seems we can’t even
talk about the weather.
Stomachs rumble as storms brew.
Hearts thunder, pound and crack.
Lightning flashes in half-closed eyes.
Floods stream down heat-flushed cheeks.
A front moves in so cold we’re adrift
in icy waters.
The fog between us is so thick