Storms—Both human and Natural

I find it strange
The way things suddenly
Become frigid.

It’s early spring
Barely mid-April
And I can’t complain

But perhaps
It’s something more
Than temperature.

Weather and moods
And the pathetic fallacy
That one causes the other;

I know it isn’t true,
Like physiognomy,
Yet I trust it.

Sudden events
Whether moods
Or human temperaments

Four seasons,
Four humors,
Four elements...

We’re made up
Of various degrees
Of the same things,

But with the weather
You can wait—
It’s different dealing
With a state.

Whether in the mind,
The will or soul
Life erodes

Some things get old
While other things
Explode.

Which brings me back
To primeval elements
And unaccommodated man—

Like Lear abandoned
On the heath
Fending off lightning
With his fists

Outside of human shelter
In the thunder’s pudder
We find a cave and make a fire

We knap flint
To make a knife
And try to deal
With ice storms
In our lives.