Hole in the Sky

After arriving in Botswana, we had a month of sunny weather, during which time I saw exactly zero clouds in the sky. After the first month was up, we awoke to a gray day, with a ceiling of ominous clouds overhead. I was delighted. It even rained a little, for about 3 minutes! Towards the end of the day, I finally spotted a break in the clouds, though it was fleeting. I snapped a photo and wrote this poem. As most of my poetry goes, it' s not in any proper poetic meter.


Hole in the Sky

Through this hole in the sky
lives the Everyday Sun
The Sun that bakes the Earth
that draws the life that water brings
from the dirt and the skins
of plants and animals
The omnipotent oven that roasts
all that dare to roam in the mid-day
forcing them to live at the mercy of the whims
of the winds
or the placement of a shadow

Through this hole in the sky
the Everyday Sun beams
It does not enjoy wasting it power
on obstinate clouds
interlopers that they are
upon a forbidden domain
The Everyday Sun grows petulant
and angry
with the hanging platform of gray
that defies its righteousness
that withstands its beatings
for a single day

Through this hole in the sky
the Everyday Sun creates an opening
in which to force its Halligan-like rays
and reclaim its dominance

And the clouds
who have given us this day of respite
who have stood eye to eye with Apollo
Lorenzo
and blinded him with their veils
These sheltering clouds
wandering wayward across the desert
hundreds of miles of sand beneath then
hundreds of miles of sand behind them
hundreds of miles of sand before them
have fought a good fight

But they cannot last against the might of the Everyday Sun

The hills of Zimbabwe are too far distant
and the Everyday Sun has time yet
to obliterate its amorphous, vapid opposition
and shine on the desert
this day
as it does
every day