seems like
it’ll never
let up

then
suddenly
without warning

clouds part
stars appear
and the wind
slows to a whisper

everything
is as it was
as it should be

and tomorrow
the sun will shine

(D. James)

odd streaks
splash the window

a dark
stark beauty

not so
when you’re
out in it

(D. James)

fierce thunder
barks

the air
thick and wet

Black streets
reflect lamplight

hard sound
of water falling
from a long way up

Tortured soul
of weather
wrestling
with the city
tonight

as if the sky
hurt and afraid
needs to be heard

wants its wrath
to be known
exerting some
momentary sense of control

only to lose
against the granite
and steel
blacktop and brick

The hard city
that falters in flood

but never ever
gives in
never loses
the war

(D. James)

Trees bend
people squint
as if in bright
sunlight

A haze
envelops the streets
women wrestle their skirts
hair tossed
every which way

A violent wind
shreds the city
tonight

Palm fronds litter
Sunset Boulevard
the homeless huddle
like refugees
in the entryway
of a long abandoned
nightclub

The weather
is the one thing
this town cannot control

(D. James)

The palm trees
and imported cars
need the glint
to show their worth

It’s harder to defend
this almost-city
when the weather
plays the hostile witness

(D. James)