Rain Survives the Weather

“Poetry frees us from tyranny”
Tracy K. Smith — American Poet Laureate  2017 & 2018

 

The angels are playing with rainsticks.
Minuscule hail (or is that sleet?)  makes music
on the sidewalk already slick with December’s tears.

It is peaceful here and starless. The darkness
is a balm for the buzz of the process playing out.
What channel doesn’t cover it?  What
station? What newspaper?

Rhetorical bullets flash then fizzle.
Is this how fascism starts?  What do we want?
Would giving them pens make them poets?

We pray that wisdom withstands the rant.
December is dark, and cold, and wet. Only poetry
can survive such weather … Poetry
and the music of angels with rainsticks.

3 thoughts on “Rain Survives the Weather

  1. BoardFlak

    Those who fire rhetorical bullets seldom seem at ease with poetry, and poets rarely play with even metaphorical guns. Angels playing with rainsticks is a terrific image. I had never thought about it, but I guess sleet really is miniature hail.

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