AIR TEMPERATURE 82 AIR TEMPERATURE 82 CALM CALM SWELL by Casey Patrick

 

Repeat & repeat. Each morning the weather report given up
to radio waves & somewhere a receiver. The farther you get
the more it’s accurate forecast difficult like shouldn’t you know
better. Each day less sure, more sky turned whale belly, so
blue I spend hours open-mouthed. It’s why I make a perfect
messenger. Conditions appear generally average: pure guesswork.
Average means nothing in a place no one’s been, which is
nearly all of it. Same shape: compass & cross, & at times I
bless you in the names of North South East West, rosary
repetition to pass time on this slim shingle of sand. I forget
myself; you don’t pray. Direction east swell direction east, amen.
Something like that maybe. Waiting each night for your next
signal. Forgive me for forgetting the ocean is wide. But you’re
so close to heaven now & we’d like to know what it is you see.

 

CASEY PATRICK earned an MFA from Eastern Washington University and currently lives in Minneapolis. She’s been awarded residencies from Hub City Writers Project and Tofte Lake Center. Poems from her first manuscript-in-progress have appeared or are forthcoming in Pleiades, The Journal, Juked, Passages North, The Adroit Journal, and others.