You come from a place of pain
You come from a place of darkness
~ Azar Nafisi
This is our world made
and remade and unmade,
isn’t it? It’s like someone
peers through
the glass dome
and lightly taps
a finger, releasing
a flurry of barely
anchored sand, a hail
of meteorites, a sandstorm.
But never a snowstorm: ours
is a tropical country, where
the only weather is made
from rain and heat, rain
and prefabricated promises
from politicians. Mostly
there is an eye, large as land
mass, whirling over the Pacific,
its white hems ominous,
gathering darkness.