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Weather Forecast
by Amanda
Auchter
Who will wait out the last shiver, will find
themselves without a coat or gloves
and walk along the sidewalk alone?
I imagine this person hates forecasts,
wants to believe that the sky
splits open because it wants to stretch
itself further into its vastness, that
a funnel touches down not because of the collision
between hot and cold, but because
the clouds feel an urgency to become vertical,
tired of the flat quickening across its blue path,
across a landscape of water vapors & ice.
This person wants to experience weather
not through its degrees and pressure,
but by the feel of a wind’s violent rotation,
a rain that suddenly turns cold,
the frozen design left on a window, any catastrophe
or beauty that erupts without warning.
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Freeze
by Billy Newman
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