Blackout [Today's News Poem, February 24, 2011]
Rain the timbers sideways, raise the tarp
And slide if you dare through a hurricane.
Jets are steaming drinks of sky for you:
A latte of contrail and shivering.
Who recalls the first of many lights?
The last is the one we remember.
"The weather looks like shit in my neighborhood, but no snow yet."
Source: Khakjaan Wessington's window
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