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

we disappear.