Last Days of Summer

These, the last days of summer, deliriously mournful,
cool breeze of September making herself known,
clouds puffing to dusty rose, cicadas in the eve,
Ishmael from off the watery seas, returning to port.

Whales wending their way back, wanderers,
travelers, Osysseus himself, the rootless,

the homeless, these, the last days of summer, 

over-ripe, when earth tilts and signals a return.

Clouds of Compassion

Nomadic clouds, 

a caravan advancing 

stealthily, 

white coarse sails,

mother's milk,

clouds of compassion

Clouds of Compassion

Fleeing, Jonah boards a ship in Jaffa,

Saying nothing to the mariners, he peers
up at huge clouds, clouds of compassion,
whiter than milk, advancing like a caravan.

When the sky darkens and hail pelts the ship,
Jonah admits his guilt. The mariners try
to save him, but in the end, they too must
cede to the inevitable. 

Only after tossing him overboard, 

does the storm abate.