Maybe I should have saved
those leftover dreams...
– “Here’s That Rainy Day”
So perhaps I made it all up—that these cannons sound
to break the heaviest of clouds, eliminate the yin
and yang that birth the lightning, and the thunder
that's sure to follow. When I share this story, it makes
no sense, I know. I, too, envision one single man
in a floppy worn hat, running to restock artillery
in fourteen-second increments, to keep us all
storm-free. As though this is all it takes to rule
the weather. As though any one of us could be
the reason that lightning strikes another of us
down. And yet, here I am and here we are, listening
to roosters now crow, to the birds in flight resume
their chirp of the day. You and I are alive and well,
safe within our structures. This, so absurd—one man
in a hat, a figment at best, remnant of every lost dream.
Nuclear power. A howl in the distance. The absence of afternoon bees.