Storms and Droughts

I, like most men,
hated the phrase,
“We need to talk.”
Which meant, of course,
that she needed to talk,
I needed to listen.

When I did not follow
that protocol storms
would ensue.
Typically violent affairs
like the pop-up thunderstorms
of the southeast,
loud and flashing and electric.

She always said it was
talking was good, it meant
that she cared, I should worry
when the talking stopped.

I walked the dog most afternoons,
long affairs around the neighborhood.
I stopped today and studied the wilting
landscapes, lifeless flowers and burnt
brown lawns.

It has been very dry lately,
nothing to nourish the parched land.
and a long time since we have
seen a storm.

I should head for home.
We need to talk.

storm cell #9

For the


‘weather’ prompt.


Filed under Poetry, Poetry - Prompts

21 responses to “Storms and Droughts

  1. Your narrative left me thinking of what’s going to happen now~

    Great use of thunderstorms in relationship ~ I need to talk to my hubby now ~

  2. we need to talk…a heavy place that or maybe a relief—communication is the only way out that is for sure…nice take on the storm with this…

    fyi with the linky down right now you may want to leave your link in the comments…

  3. Great write! So real and down to earth. Love it!

  4. poemsofhateandhope

    This is blunt, raw, and to the point!….love the se of weahther to embody a relationship….the way you tell this is narrative in style…but the way you fit the words….it gave it an atmosphere, a mood…like I could ear how downbeat the narrators voice was…how sick and tired he was….great writing as per usual mark….your poems always make me feel something

  5. One of your best, Mark. I particularly love the ending, with its humility.

  6. this is life!! i love your writings!

  7. made me smile…great drawing of the scene and blend of weather and relationship…the parched land…respectful talk is surely a way to nourish it again

  8. ouch. well at least the dog is happy =)

  9. There is that rub in relationships, isn’t there. In some ways, you think it’s a one way street, but they say men communicate in different ways. It’s when that avenue closes down that the fog sets in, harboring shadows and doubts. This is a really tender poem, loving and knowing. Been there done that monent, rendered exquisitely quiet and with self-awareness.

  10. Laurie Kolp

    Wow, Mark- powerful… love the drought metaphor, too.

  11. hedgewitch

    Excellent and subtle work with the metaphor, and may I say, you reaffirm my faith in the understanding and depth of your gender. Storms can be destructive, of course, but there’s no life, no growth, without rain.

  12. (Chuckling.) Yes, worry when the storms and the talks stop and the landscape seems parched. Yes, but talks can also be started by the one who has paid attention. Bravo for saying a lot with very few words.

  13. I like this – it’s circular and slyly savvy. 🙂

  14. Wow, this is really really good……..the segue from observing the dryness of the landscape to returning home to talk is a “wow!” moment for the reader. (and likely for the poet’s wife, too, hee hee.) Great work. One of your best.

  15. We don’t have to talk. I can just poison your soup.

  16. fear the silence 🙂 I think you did a great job, especially the opening stanza!

  17. Absolutely spot on…

  18. Simply brilliant! I loved the full circle journey.

  19. This was very nice to read!

  20. Tight, clever in the good sense, and not a bit of waste to be had. This is awfully good stuff.

Some of what I write is true, some is fiction; most is merely possibility.

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