You think the weather is predictable?
All this year where the worst is minus ten
And tornadoes are news from Ohio?
We’ve had school every day, not one delay,
But don’t be fooled, just you wait, now listen:
In less than a day, sixty-eight inches of rain
Has fallen, and the fastest foot of rain,
Forty-two minutes, was in Missouri,
Not far. In July, a blizzard has swept
The Plains; for Christmas Eve, in Montana,
A drop of eighty-four degrees, and you
In your flimsy jackets, thinking winter
Takes a holiday like this little school.

The weather forecast is for clouds. Don’t interrupt.
There’s no telling what else might be coming.
Be prepared. Those Boy Scouts don’t know the half
Of it. Just you wait until the night sky
Goes noon-bright. Trust me, your fathers will hide
Inside their closets like house-fire children.
In the worst of weather, you’re on your own.
You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?
Next time be quiet; next time, most of all,
Keep your eyes shut until I say open.

Gary Fincke
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