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Guest Poet Geoff Leone

Pastoral Symphony

Thunder clouds build. Faraway
lightning bolts strike
closer, closer. We hug
the tree trunks, afraid
to get our hair wet. Up the hill

Contents of hampers follow
blankets, bottles, toys.
We are afraid
to get our hair wet. Closer.

It would be a comfort to know
(firemen remark)
that one side of our bodies
from head to foot
looks good as new.

July, 2001

Geoff Leone's Questions:

Is this excessively brutal?

A disguised Forest Ranger warning?

Is it far too objective for its own good?

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