Yo what’s up! It’s been a bit, so here’s my newest piece of poetry titled “The Cry of the Weatherman:”
“The Cry of the Weatherman” by Michael Metzler Jr.
At noon the rooster, With an unearthly roar, Summoned the horizon, While the earth sang the song Of the Forever Goodbyes, A song that sang forever. Then came the Cry of the weatherman, The weatherman atop The golden tower, hands Affixed to the direction Of the wind. His voice bled into The earth’s song. “Alas, the sky!” He cried, “Alas, the end!” The end is nigh!” His figure perched upon The skyline splits the sun In two; I am too Forever for his ignorance. “A storm,” he calls, “A storm arrives!” Perhaps I give in to the Transient dread, and set my eyes To churning tempest there, O’er waters rise. But his chant is but one lyric Of the Forever Goodbyes, A song that sang forever, the voice that Never dies, repeats, Day after day, with each Midpoint of the sun, Into the endless. “Alas, the sky!” How amateur, the weatherman’s cry; Yes, good sir, the end is nigh, And always has been.