Weather Man Poem by Norman F. Santos

Halcyon weather smile
Brighter than the bursting sun
Rupturing the violent tempest
With the geometrical perfection
A wryly grin behold

You have mastered fine
The craft of marqueterie
Light wispy strokes,
Grave subtle lacerations,
And come around beautifully

You are a marionette
Inside a glass chiffoniers
For the idiosyncratic spectators
Who pulled the strings
That made you a phony

In the impenetrability
Of such nonmalleable veneer
Would you deliver, in
Your euphonious brogue,
The real news to everybody?

I would die to see
You collapse like a skeleton
Trampling from the closet
And come to me naked
From the weatherman clad