If not for the wind,
we might sing or tell stories
discuss the cormorants
that suddenly dive
where the dark kelp sleeps
or wait for a passing whale
to rise and spout.

We might pretend that time
has stopped racing and rest
in the blue hour of mortal words.
If we remember the future,
it will only make us sad.

If not for thunder and the threat
of dry lightning, we might forget
how sorrows may turn and walk
away but only to come round again.

If not for the rattling of windows
we could remember old laughter
and the bark of old dogs.
And what is that shadow
by the orange tree?

J. Kyle Kimberlin
Creative Commons Licensed