how your hands clear
easily the wreckage;
how you stand—like a building for a time condemned,
then deemed historic. Yes. You
will be saved.

From "Aubade: Some Peaches, After Storm" by Carl Phillips


More poems about Weather:

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What was it like before the doctor got there?...

From "Snow-Bound," 11:1-40, 116-154 by John Greenleaf Whittier
The sun that brief December day...

In April by James Hearst
This I saw on an April day...

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The Storm by Theodore Roethke
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Ode to the West Wind by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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The Snow Storm by Ralph Waldo Emerson
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A Winter Without Snow by J. D. McClatchy
Even the sky here in Connecticut has it...

An Octave Above Thunder by Carol Muske-Dukes
She began as we huddled, six of us...

Rain by Claribel Alegría
As the falling rain / trickles among the stones...

Even the Rain by Agha Shahid Ali
What will suffice for a true-love knot? Even the rain?...

Aubade: Some Peaches, After Storm by Carl Phillips
So that each / is its own, now--each has fallen, blond stillness....

It Was Raining In Delft by Peter Gizzi
A cornerstone. Marble pilings. Curbstones and brick...

Sitting Outside by W. D. Snodgrass
These lawn chairs and the chaise lounge...

A Crosstown Breeze by Henry Taylor
A drift of wind...

A Line-storm Song by Robert Frost
The line-storm clouds fly tattered and swift...

Flood by Eliza Griswold
I woke to a voice within the room. perhaps...

Flood by Miyazawa Kenji
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Great Sleeps I Have Known by Robin Becker
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Problems with Hurricanes by Victor Hernández Cruz
A campesino looked at the air...

Snow by Naomi Shihab Nye
Once with my scarf knotted over my mouth...

Who Has Seen the Wind? by Christina Rossetti
Who has seen the wind?...

more poetry about weather