“Giving it to you every ten minutes,”

She says, and I know what she means

(technically, it’s the weather),

but I read between the lines,

and can only imagine my exhaustion.

Arielle.

Is she a Disney Princess,

helplessly forced to read forecasts

as she waits to be rescued?

Trapped on dry land,

yearning to return to the sea.

Forecast

or play.

 

Her daily prom,

bridesmaid,

cocktail party,

call girl

attire

hugging her jetstream,

peaks, and valley.

She’s an argument for

higher resolution TV to

accurately track visibility

of her Aeolian anemometer.

The personification

of the Canadian

hardness-gauge.

No doubt popular

at meteorology school,  

when asked to predict

anything hot,

moist,

wet,

warm,

intense...

anything at all, really.

From her lips to God's ears.

 

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