28 february 2020, amsterdam
at dusk, it kicked off
fisting in the fat face of sky,
rumbling, roaring, raging, grumbling, lashing
it has rolled up its sleeves
arms akimbo
to show who is boss here
some roofs will fly ten miles upward
pity for uprooted trees,
sadness for the broken winged pigeon,
oh no! for the flowery skirts of marketplace ladies,
… for the flimsy parasols,
… flapping tents of refugees
standing in rainwater,
its speed will transfer
a child’s cry nine light years, unheard
it has kicked off,
it’ll even erase the zebra’s stripes,
it’ll brush away the flowers of restaurants plates,
it’ll squeeze the sap of the bare trees,
punching the blushing and vulnerable face of city,
it has kicked off,
galloping, lashing, piercing
as if the sky’s banner is about to be
ripped apart
it’s pouring, pouring
all night,
it’s pouring, weeping, pouring
even the full moon is washed away
the bison of night
quite calm, grazing
in the prairie of sky
the belly of earth full
to the brim
sky, empty, composed and content
for now
aftermath
profitable
damages
who can muzzle the storm?
tomorrow it’s likely there’ll be
another collision
clouds, colours, mountains, mires, my words