Fate

Back east,
down east,
weather arrives
from the southwest
and stalls
humid and dense
sitting down
for a rest
before lumbering
out to sea.

Straight down
from the north
the air,
a blue vacuum,
makes icicles of morning smoke
rising from frozen chimneys.

But when it comes from the northeast
and the boats swing round
bows facing the harbor mouth
with that turn
all our superstitions are justified.
We lash down and wait
for the terrible caprice to abate.

Back there, back then,
this was called will
and the weather was fate.

Stuart Cudlitz
San Francisco
1994

Songs And Poems


	Fate Back east, down east, weather arrives from the southwest and stalls humid and dense sitting down for a rest before lumbering out to sea. Straight down from the north the air, a blue vacuum, makes icicles of morning smoke rising from frozen chimneys. But when it comes from the northeast and the boats swing round bows facing the harbor mouth with that turn all our superstitions are justified. We lash down and wait for the terrible caprice to abate. Back there, back then, this was called will and the weather was fate. Stuart Cudlitz San Francisco 1994
		Songs And Poems