When you attempt to
conjure a weatherman,
be sure to wear stormy grey.
Kick off both of your shoes.
Walk for hours in the rain.
Bury the weather vane
below your bedroom window,
gather a fistful of feathers,
and slowly chant his name.
Dance boldly with the moon,
when she’s full and flirts
from behind a veil of clouds
which you have stirred
widdershins into your third
cup of black, sweet coffee
–he will come riding the wind
of your incantation.
—–
POEM A DAY APRIL 2015 – PROMPT:
For today’s prompt, take the phrase “Bury the (blank),” replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write your poem. Some possible titles include: “Bury the Hatchet,” “Bury the Body,” “Bury the Past,” “Bury the Hate,” and “Bury the Acorns.”
Pen's Ink 