through weather

"Through weather. through weather's declensions.
Through spring's steep degrees, through five shapes of snow,
through the thunderhead's sexual green

over green geometrical acreage,
through every stromy declension
of the heart I have cried your name...

*
And what is wind
but a dialect of longing?-: the high
pressure rushing to fill the low, the sky

trying to shake its heats against the earth's
asymptotic cool, its somersaulting cools
against the earth's radiance. all weather

springs from currents of failed desire. No wonder
the wind, when it says anything at all,
howls."

-kimberly johnson, a metaphorical god