This poem is darker than I usually put in the box, and perhaps more mythic. I spent the weekend in a Narrative Medicine workshop and in one of our small group sessions, we spent more than an hour with this poem. As we talked about it, pulled out lines that stood out for us, and wrote to the prompt, “Write about a different manner of weather,” it kept opening up and opening up. Each person saw it in a different way. And so I finished the weekend with this poem on my mind and the sense that it might have something—many things—to offer this week.
“....something
Large and old awoke. And then our singing
Brought on a different manner of weather. ”
