Observations of experiencing an atmospheric river

 Observations of experiencing an atmospheric river A

 

The California hills a preposterous green,

the clouds nefariously white,             

the leafless oak trees desperately etch the sky 

and the windshield covered in tiny diamonds

left from yesterdays’ rain --

having decamped a power outage

I drive home.

 

 

Observations of experiencing an atmospheric river B

 

The California hills a preposterous green,

            (as they never are)

the clouds nefariously white,

            (as when full of more water to come) 

the leafless oak trees desperately etch the sky

            (as those scrubby trees do)

and the windshield covered in tiny diamonds

left from yesterdays’ rain --

            (grabbing sunlight as they can)

having decamped a power outage

I drive home.

 

S. Olivier

Jan 12, 2023

 Sad little patio on a bleak day.

Miss Christmas Tree 2022

 Miss Christmas Tree 2022 (& 2020 & 2021)

 

There is tree outdoors in a pot --

a big deep pot on a patio,

standing bravely in a spot

in a rainy December.

 

X marks the spot where outdoor tree

stood tall, dressed in bells, 

trimmed in white lights

and frippery of red and green.

 

Outdoor tree patiently waits all day –

to glow at dusk into night,

keeping watch, providing 

unexpected protection and delight.

 

Through the window she blessed me,

worth all the effort to dress her up

paying me back in constancy 

and remembered fantasy.

 

Never passing judgement

all the while witnessing 

the shenanigans of my daily life.

Miss Christmas Tree glowed quietly through th' night.

 

 

Monday, January 2, 2023

13th month of 2020

She said, “The year has flown by.”

My son-in-law said, “Sometimes it feels that way.”

I thought, “What year was she living in?”

 

This year has lasted half my life.

This year has nearly stolen my sanity,

I can’t even remember the year before this one --

or the one before that, or the one before that –

it was so long ago. 

 

Every day is Groundhog Day.

I too, see my shadow day after day.

It shortens the view of my larger world

and lengthens my fears at night.

 

Let’s be honest, this year was soul crushing,

heart breaking, body debilitating.

And that’s just those of us still alive.

 

My days are constructs of pretense.

 

June, I fantasized, I was on sabbatical 

exploring how to be creative, to solve problems, 

to express thoughts to others.

 

November, I conjured myself a cabin in the woods 

trapped by a snowstorm of indeterminate length,

imagining warmth, baking muffins, making soup.

 

Month 13, I now assume I’m under house arrest 

by an unknown benevolent master

for being insolent, or naughty.

 

Let’s be honest, this year is soul crushing --

we are living with all the symptoms of depression by default.

And that’s just those of us who are terribly, terribly fortunate.        

 

January 18, 2021

S. Olivier