Change in the Weather

by Cynthia Knorr

The storm was different last night
pumped up and reckless
a drunk teenager behind the wheel of the car, speeding.

The rain and wind joined forces
searching for a way inside our house—
one infiltrating the sodden roof

the other throwing punches at the windows.
We lay beside each other in the dark
waiting for the crash that would ruin tomorrow.

The earth used to set limits on the weather
but now she is whispering go for it.
They deserve it.

Some of us deserve it more than others:
climate-change deniers, oligarchs, oil barons, yes,
but Puerto Ricans, Inuits, Sub-Saharan Africans?

Closer to home: you and me, dear?
We recycle our bags, eat farm to table, rarely take an airplane.
I hear the earth laughing.